Foreword: This is my experience. It is one of the most beautiful and sacred
things that has ever happened to me. I almost
hesitate to share it publically for fear of being misunderstood. Not every mother has had an experience like
mine and I mean no condemnation to anyone who has chosen to give birth differently
than I have. I hope others will give me
the same respect. If you had a horrible
labor and got an epidural or planned a caesarean, or screamed curses and vowed
you’d never do it again, I totally admire you for giving birth, for giving life
to a child. Your birth was just as sacred
as mine. Now, simply let me share my
story. Just please, let’s not let the
controversial aspects of birth detract from the beauty of it.
From the time I first learned of the marvelous, mysterious
thing that is childbirth I have looked forward to it with a mixture of
anticipation and dread. It seems that
every mother has a horror story or two of hours of excruciating pain and
agony. Yet something in my heart knew
that it was an experience I did not want to avoid. Though afraid of pain, I wanted the reward of
childbirth: a baby. When I was courting
Stephen, I read the birth story of a friend who had given birth naturally in
water. I read about her pain, but then
there came the moment when her little girl was placed in her arms. With tears I realized that any pain would be
worth that moment.
Before and during my pregnancy I did a lot of research on
birth and Stephen and I decided on a home birth with a professional midwife. We greatly appreciated the personal support
and quality care we received from our midwives.
My pregnancy went well with an average amount of
discomforts. As the time for Enoch’s
birth drew closer I grew in faith and courage.
With prayers and joyful anticipation I prepared for the birth of my
firstborn son.
I went into labor at midnight on May the 24th. I tried to go back to sleep but it just
wasn’t happening even though the contractions were still more than twenty
minutes apart. I told Stephen to try to
sleep and went to the living room to pace around. I was really excited! I found that movement was key to relaxing
through the contractions (which never got as bad as I thought they would.) During those early ones I would lean against
the wall and rock my lower body and sing “Jesus Loves Me” to myself. I hadn’t planned that, but looking back it
makes sense that I would choose a song that had meant love, safety, and
happiness to me since I was a baby. I
also spent some time with God reconnecting.
I found that prayer really helped, not because I couldn’t handle the
pain, but because it was so necessary for me to let go and I needed to trust
myself to Someone bigger than myself.
I was really afraid of overreacting to labor so I convinced
myself that I was still really early and could handle it all just fine on my
own. Still I thought maybe my Mom would
be awake, (it was now in the early hours of the morning) and would like to know
what was going on. She immediately
wanted to get in the car and come be with me.
I didn’t think I needed her yet, but didn’t tell her that. My dad wanted to come too, which I hadn’t
planned, but, since I knew he was really nervous about his daughter having a
baby, I thought it would be good to let him come to the house anyway. We had the birth pool set up in our bedroom
and a door separates the living room/ dining room/kitchen from the bedrooms and
bathrooms, so he could be close without actually being in the room. He spent the time in the living room waiting
for progress updates and probably had the roughest experience of any of
us.
After I got off the phone I decided to call my midwife,
Shea, and give her a heads up. My
contractions were well within the every five minute range and even though I
didn’t think they were that intense, I decided to call her. I knew she was out of town for an infant
resuscitation course that was required to keep her license and that her
partner, Barbara, would have to come to the birth instead. I really like Barbara so that was no problem although
I was disappointed Shea couldn’t be there.
Shea was also disappointed that the baby was coming when she couldn’t
come herself. She asked if I had tried
going back to sleep, but after timing the contractions that came during the
call she knew this was the real thing.
She told me to call Barbara when I thought I needed to. I told her that since my mom had worked her
whole nursing career in labor and delivery I thought she could probably check
me when she arrived and we would call Barbara depending on what she found. She thought that was a good idea and advised
me to wake Stephen up in the meantime. I
was ready for some support.
I “woke” Stephen (he wasn’t asleep) and he helped me through
contractions until four when my mom arrived.
I asked her to check me. I was
certain I was still at no more than 2, but she told me to call the midwife
because I was “at least a five.” I was
so relieved and happy to be that far along!
Stephen filled the birth pool which we had purchased, and I got
in. The warm water felt so good! I had a much easier time relaxing there in
the water with my mom, sister, and husband rubbing my back and arms.
The labor was amazing.
I felt so much love from my husband, mom, and sister that it was very
manageable. As I got closer to full
dilation, and the contractions got more intense, Barbara had to keep reminding
me not to fight. As I would come to
those moments I would recite a Bible verse in my mind and I would calm right
down. I could not believe how much it
actually helped. I really didn’t think
that would work for me like that. The
time went by and looking back it really doesn’t feel like it could have been as
long as it was.
Finally, after nine hours of labor, I was ready to push. I
pushed for a while. It took a few tries
to figure out how, and then I went for it, certain my baby would be in my arms
in no time. An hour went by. And then another. It was much harder work than I expected,
although not as painful as it might have been.
After two more hours of pushing, I was starting to get discouraged and
questioned whether I would be able to give birth naturally. We tried a few different positions and
finally I felt him move. I will forever
be grateful that I didn’t have an epidural, because that feeling of his head
moving gave me the strength to finish.
At 1:20, four and a half hours after I started pushing, Enoch was born
and immediately placed in my arms. No
way can I describe this moment! My little
boy looked up at me with a trusting inquisitive look. “Hi Precious,” I said. Stephen held me as I held Enoch and we kissed
and cried together.
Looking back, I am certain that if I had been in a hospital,
I would have been given a c section. I
would have consented to it. It really
looked like my small bone structure was preventing his birth, but Barbara was
so calm and confident (and careful to check his heart rate very frequently)
that we didn’t panic. I kept trying and
I did it. Only by the grace of God, but
I did it. I didn’t even tear.
I really think there is a huge difference between labor pain
and other forms of pain. It is such a
happy kind of pain I think. I felt so
safe and loved and excited that my baby was coming that it could no way have
been called suffering. Every other kind
of pain (except maybe vigorous exercise) feels like an injury, like something
is wrong. This isn’t like that, at least
not for me. I do think though that it is
worth it to prepare yourself for pain.
Also I know that some women have had a much harder time than I did and
have been in worse pain. I don’t want to
trivialize someone else’s experience, but that is how it was for me.
Giving birth was a life changing experience for me. I no longer fear childbirth. (Watch my next one be terrible, I know.) I believe that God allowed couples to be
given an experience to prepare them to raise children in a world full of sin
and danger, a world that calls for every ounce of parental strength. I feel that going through this experience
together with Stephen helped me to love and trust him more. Also it taught me to look to God for strength
when the demands of motherhood are too much.
Just as God used the curse of hard work tilling the soil as a blessing
to men, he turns the curse of pain in childbirth into a blessing for
women. There can even be joy in it. God is like that.
And did I mention I can’t get enough of my precious
baby? J
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