For the sake of catching up, I am re-posting our birth story! Recycling is all the rage these days, right?
Yes, it's true, I delivered my baby while wearing a sundress. Wait, wait, wait, WHAT?!
While getting ready for church on Sunday morning (January 8), I got my first contraction that was noticeably uncomfortable. I had been taking herbal supplements that had been giving me contractions already, but this felt different. I nonchalantly let Christopher know that I "felt something," I doubted it was a contraction and wrote it off as possibly a cramp or tummy ache? Knowing how long labor can last for first-time moms, I decided I would try to ignore these "cramps" for as long as my body would allow. Exactly six minutes later, the same "cramp" happened again, followed by another "cramp" exactly 6 minutes after on the dot, and so forth lasting nearly one minute long. At this point, I was still doubtful that these were true active labor contractions. Since we decided that we would commit to pursuing an unmedicated, natural childbirth, I basically have spent nearly 40 weeks of my life telling myself that labor pains would utterly be the most excruciating pains in the world. To be honest, I doubted that these were true contractions because of how bearable they were.
About two hours later, my "cramps" jump to being 3.5 minutes apart, and I was experiencing back labor. Christopher started to worry a bit at this point, since we knew that according to textbook labor instructions, now would be about the time we start heading to the hospital, but here is his wife still trying to act like this was no big deal, and who knows, it might be a false alarm after all. I honestly couldn't believe these were real labor contractions that were nearing the end, since it was all happening SO FAST, and for some reason, I had already convinced myself that I would have one of those 48 hour labor stories! When in fact there was no warm-up; labor just snuck up on me! Christopher took charge and went ahead and called our doula and midwife to let them know what was happening. They also remained calm, were in no rush, and thought I had a longer way to go, since I was a first-time mom. And they probably thought that as a first-timer, I was probably jumping the gun and most likely had NOT progressed as much as we were saying I had.
As with all good labor stories, the contractions got more intense - the back labor was really the worst part of it all, since the pain was more encompassing. Thankfully, I had an awesome labor coach (my husband!) who applied the right amount of counter pressure to help things along. I squated, swayed, or sat on the commode with each contraction, which I found were the only comfortable positions for me. I refused to leave the bathroom, the smallest room in our house. I refused to turn on the light. I started vomiting, which I knew was a textbook sign of transition (the last part of labor), yet I still COULD NOT BELIEVE this was really happening, since it was all happening so quickly! Christopher called our doula to make her way over to our home.
Christopher eventually convinced me to move to our basement room where I breathed and squatted thru more contractions, and bam, my water broke. And bam, the contractions were back to back, leaving me less time to catch my breath in between. So much of pain really depends on how you respond to it (flashback to bio lessons on parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems, yeah?!). So with every contraction, I would just breathe deeply and repeatedly say out loud, "This is a good thing, this is a good thing, this is a good thing." Christopher called our midwife who then told us to come to the hospital. I did not tell Christopher this at the time since I knew it would absolutely freak him out, but I already had the urge to push. I thought to myself, "Oh my gosh, I think I could have this baby right here in our basement!"
Our doula arrived just when Christopher gathered all our things for the hospital, and off we went. The car ride was quite...interesting to say the least. And once again I thought only to myself to prevent Christopher from getting into an accident, "Oh my gosh, I think I could have this baby right here in our car!"
We arrived at the hospital where they ever so casually asked us for ID, insurance info, and asked me to have a seat. I sharply made a remark (that is not appropriate for Facebook publication) and the nurse immediately ushered me to the labor and delivery room. My midwife Nora arrived shortly thereafter wearing her jeans and sweater, haha. I told her that I thought I was feeling a lot of pressure on my bottom, but I sounded doubtful. She told me ever so sweetly, "Well, you look a little too calm to be in transition, but we'll check you." This is probably the only point I was tempted to despair. "Calm" is not a word I or anyone who has ever had a one-minute conversation with me would ever use to describe myself on any given occasion. So being called "calm" during a point in which women typically go insano during labor due to all the crazy hormonal and physiological changes going on in your body was not very encouraging at all! She checked me and was surprised to find that I was already 100% effaced and 10 cm dilated! I was still wearing the sundress I arrived in. There wasn't time to change. They hooked me up to all the necessary machines. I was already in pushing position on the hospital bed, and the nurse was STILL asking me silly questions about what I am allergic to and what my "preferred method of learning" was. Say what?!
I was surprised to find that pushing was actually relieving for me, which gave me more incentive to keep doing it. Since I felt every contraction coming on, I was able to know what my body was doing, ride each contraction, and push with each one. I really wanted to avoid tearing, so I was immensely grateful for a midwife who respected my desire to push only when I felt a contraction and when my body told me to. My midwife, doula, and Christopher were SO incredibly supportive, encouraging, and reassuring. I felt completely at peace and safe knowing I was under their watch and care. They coached me to keep taking deep breaths and relax my body in order to let the labor process keep moving along.
After about 25 minutes of pushing, our sweet Naomi came into this world head first, followed by her two arms high in the air! It was as if she was reaching for me! She was ready to go! I heard Christopher's excitement, as he watched Naomi make her grand debut. My midwife told me to reach down and grab my baby to deliver the rest of her body, so I did and then immediately placed her on my chest for skin to skin contact. Words cannot describe that feeling of awe, relief, and inexpressible joy. You go from experiencing all this toil and pain to seeing your baby for the first time, and all the pain just flies away. All I knew at that moment was that I wanted to love and care for this beautiful baby girl in my arms for the rest of my life.
It's crazy to look back and trace God's grace in answering SO many prayers regarding labor and delivery. I must admit that since we decided to commit to a natural childbirth, I was rather anxious and fearful about all sorts of things. So from day one, we really covered this birthing experience in much prayer. I really have to give Him thanks for answering even the most specific prayers as to which midwife would deliver my baby, tolerance, my response to pain, duration of labor, not kicking anyone in the delivery room :D, the recovery process, etc.
I've shared with my sweet husband that I have not felt the depth of God's love in a long time like I do now. It really is just so overwhelming. All this time, I have known and trusted that God's love is steadfast. It is everlasting. It does not fail. In my own rebellion, I just had not been as mindful of these beautiful truths as I should have been. But He has caught my attention now. I often tell our daughter, "We love you, Naomi." I also follow that by telling her, "But Jesus loves you more." And the thought of that alone makes me weep with joy and thankfulness. I sit here, and I feel like my heart just grew a million times with nothing but love for my sweet girl. But Jesus loves her more. I know I am absolutely committed to love her, provide for her, bless her, comfort and care for her, etc. I honestly don't know how it would be possible for me to love any more. It's a pure "just because" kind of love. It's not conditional on how Naomi treats me. It's not dependent upon what I can get from her in return. In fact, she only takes, takes, takes these days (and for many days to come)! I love her just because. Just because she's mine. I think that is just a TINY TASTE of God's love who is all pure, perfect, and faithful in His care. To think that through His sacrifice at the cross and His resurrection life, Jesus has already met our deepest need for a Savior and has proven that His love indeed never changes (despite our own emotions, perceptions, and circumstances), and it never fails. Jesus does love Naomi more. And He loves me too. Not because of anything we have done, but because He is rich in mercy. Just because He chose to set His love upon us. It's incredible how the Lord has already used the birth of Naomi to bring so much healing, cleansing, and sweetness back into my life. For that and so many other things, I am ever so grateful.
