As I’ve shared about before, I didn’t want to be a mother for the first 31 years of my life. One of the primary reasons for this was I was terrified by the mere thought of giving birth (not exactly sure why this is, but I believe Hollywood’s less than rosy treatment of labor and childbirth to be at least partially responsible…).
Then, after years of thinking I was going to forever be “happily child-free,” God worked a miracle in my hardened heart: I walked out of church one bright Sunday May morning desiring a child somethin’ awful. My husband and I were pregnant six weeks later.
Long story short, while I had moved past my stubborn “no children, no way” attitude, I was still fearful of the whole “ejecting a human out of my nether regions” thing, and took it for granted that I would accept, nay, demand, any and all pain meds when the big day came. I even fancied having (demanding…) an elective C-section. Anything to bypass the “curse of Eve” and save myself from what I was sure would otherwise be a heavily traumatic, if not near-death, experience.
If it weren’t for my husband’s best friend’s recommendation that we watch the fabulous documentary, The Business of Being Born, I definitely would have gone the heavily medicated, hospital birth route. If you haven’t seen this film, I highly recommend you check it out. It, along with the invaluable books, Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, and Childbirth Without Fear, gave me the confidence, motivation, and practical tips and tools I needed to prepare for birth the way the good Lord designed women to not only experience it, but be blessed and empowered through it.
Because I’m actively trying to rest (oxymoronic as that sounds) and savor these sweet early days with my newborn, I’m likely going to keep this post as short and sweet as possible by sticking to the birth story details. I plan to post at a later date about what I personally did to prepare for this birth and how that preparation compares and contrasts with the births of my first two children.
Here we go…
Well, one week ago, 40 weeks came and went, just like they did with my daughter, who was born at 41 weeks. Three days after this baby’s due date, this past Monday, I experienced prodromal labor for the first time, that is, false labor. On and off all day, starting with unusual back cramps during my early-morning lower-body workout, I had significant contractions, but they didn’t intensify or grow in frequency as they do in true, active labor.
The next morning on Tuesday, I went to an ultrasound appointment to check get what’s known as a BPP (biophysical profile) to check on baby, followed by an appointment with my midwife, who did a cervical check. I was 80% effaced and five centimeters dilated (if that’s a foreign language to you, click here to decode!) I knew labor – true labor! – was imminent, but set my mind on distracting itself as much as possible.
I got home from that appointment, did some homeschool with my son, felt a few contractions that I passed off as mind-teasing nonsense, and put myself down for a nap.
My nap began at 4:07 p.m. (I know, because I had texted my midwife a question just prior), and for 30 minutes, I breathed through more contractions, which, once again, I ignored as big, fat fakes!
But then, at 4:37, I felt a ginormous amount of downward pressure, then heard a bizarre popping sound, followed by the sensation of warm water filling my shorts. This, I believe, was God’s way of saying, “This is the real thing. Get ready to meet your son!”
I rolled out of bed, stumbled into the hallway, and pounded on the window that looks out at the pool, to which my husband was adding chemicals.
“My water broke!” I shouted to him.
He literally dropped what he was doing and hustled inside; he knew his job was to apply counter pressure to my back during my contractions and to fill the labor pool up with hot water. My mom also stopped what she was doing in the kitchen and assured us she’d get the kids up from their naps soon and keep them away from my bedroom, where we were planning to have the baby.
Like a dog sniffing and circling before finally finding an adequate spot on which to plop down and snooze, I padded around my bedroom floor in search of the most favorable laboring place until a strong contraction sent me to my hands and knees (my favorite labor position) on the tarp the labor pool was sitting on. Since I was still leaking amniotic fluid, the tarp seemed the best place to remain.
I quickly texted my midwife that things were happening fast (I didn’t even have time between contractions to open my contraction timer app) and she said she’d head over from the birth center, which is 30ish minutes away from our house.
At this point, just after 5 p.m., I soOooo wanted to get in the labor pool, as I knew my body would involuntarily begin pushing any minute. But my midwife had prohibited me from getting in before her arrival; she wanted to check the baby’s heartrate first. Because my first two kids’ births happened in a bathtub, I was fearful of pushing out of the water, but I refused to let fear take hold and prayed it away (fear and natural childbirth are incompatible – remember that!).
At 5:25 p.m., I heard my midwife enter the room and quickly unpack her things, just as I released my first “pushing roar,” as I affectionately refer to it, followed by less aggressive “puh-puh-puh” sounds, which my midwife had recommended to help slow down pushing a bit in an effort to prevent vaginal or perineal tearing (which proved a successful strategy!).
Seven minutes later, our second son, Elden-Isaac Pace, was here, after a family-record-breaking 57-minute labor. Talk about a rush!!
Pace’s first name (we’re calling him by his middle name, which means “Passover” and “peace”) was given in honor of his paternal great-grandfather Elden, as well as my husband Ben, whose middle name is Isaac. He measured 20.25 inches and weighed in at 7 pounds, 13 ounces – the largest of our three!
So far, Pace is living up to the meaning of his name, as his demeanor is definitely one of peace, contentment, and solitude. We praise God for the heavenly, healthy, happy birth He once again provided for us, as well as for the tremendous guidance, support, and expertise from Kris, my midwife, and her assistant Kiana.
“I am persuaded from long years of experience amongst women of many nationalities that good midwifery is essential for the true happiness of motherhood – that good midwifery is the birth of a baby in a manner nearest to the natural law and design – and good midwifery, next to wise and healthy pregnancy, sets the pattern of the newborn infant and its relationship to its mother.” – Grantly Dick-Read
Thank you as always for your support of my writing!
Fiction:
NEW: Where I Go Night-Night (children’s picture book)
NEW!: The God Next Door (comedic fantasy)
Medusa’s Wish (fantasy)
Moonbow: Prequel to The Petros Chronicles (fantasy)
Age of the Ashers (fantasy)
War of the Ashers (fantasy)
Fate of the Ashers (fantasy)
The Petros Chronicles Boxset
Armor for Orchids (Christian Women’s Contemporary)
Orchid Unshaken (Christian Women’s Contemporary)
Orchid Unbound (Christian Women’s Contemporary)
Orchid Unfading (Christian Women’s Contemporary)
Non-Fiction:
Fit for Faith: A Christian Woman’s Guide to Total Fitness
Perfect Fit Couples Edition: Workouts and Reflections for a Rock-Solid Relationship
Perfect Fit: Weekly Wisdom and Workouts for Women of Faith and Fitness
Perfect Fit No Excuses: 15-Minute Workouts for Life’s Busiest Days
Immeasurable Fitness Challenge: 18 Days of Total Health for Spirit, Soul, and Body
Immeasurable: Diving in the Depths of God’s Love (a memoir)
