It has been 3 years since I started writing this story. I started to write it soon after I had Titus and then I put it aside for a few months and wrote some more. Now over 2 more years has passed and my baby boy turns 3 today and this story has still been sitting in my drafts. Titus's birth story is the only story of my babies I never published. Even now as I read back through what I wrote so long ago, I can't figure out how to accurately portray just how much Titus's birth impacted me. Since the time I wrote this out, I have changed even more. I have had another baby in a completely different way. I can see more clearly how God used Titus's birth to push me into deeper research, education and discussion about what normal birth is and the ways He designed things to work. I am so thankful for that. But I would be lying if I didn't say that there is still a lot I am working through emotionally surrounding Titus's birth. I am thankful that I am able to face this story and this blog tonight, something I have avoided for months....years really... and continue to process through so many emotions.........
WRITTEN SHORTLY AFTER TITUS WAS BORN:
I've sat down and tried to write Titus's birth story a few times now. I've thought about sitting down to write it even more times, but have been avoiding it. His birth went beautifully well. God had His hand in so many details. He is worthy of all the praise.
But the birth of little Titus has been interesting for me to process as well. His birth was mentally and emotionally challenging for me more than anything else. In some ways, I am tempted to just write out the factually events of what happened. It would be what people expect. It would bring God glory. But I feel like it would be such a shallow version of what went on for me that night and day. In other ways, though, I feel like sharing the more emotional side of things is daunting. It makes me feel vulnerable.
Over the past 6 years, I have changed drastically in many areas of life. It can be hard for me to make dramatic shifts in thinking because I start to feel like the "old" me would not even recognize the "new" me. I know that the "6-years-ago me" would very strongly disagree with the "now me". Sometimes the process is the hardest part.
One of my ideological shifts has been in the area of giving birth. The change has been a gradual one; it didn't happen overnight. Titus's birth confirmed for me just how much I have changed, though. When I was pregnant with Kenzie, I was afraid of labor, terrified of delivery, and very much wanting to avoid pain. I also believed that modern medicine had brought an easy answer to pain that came with virtually no side effects...I mean, RARELY something bad might happen, but overall it was just this great thing God had allowed us to figure out to deal with the horrible part of giving birth. I went into my first labor and delivery experience knowing I didn't want to feel anything and I didn't want a C-section. That was about all I knew. I never really thought that giving birth could potentially be a time that would bring me into a deep place of dependence on God as well as an event that would bring me to a place of such awe and reverence at His marvelous perfection in creating my body and a new little body to work together. In fact, God's place in my first labor and delivery falls so incredibly short of what I believe His place SHOULD be in this process. And I think that is what makes me sad. My past birth experiences, things I've read, people I've talked to, and other resources have brought me to a place of really desiring to be able to fully incorporate praising and worshiping God as a main part of giving birth. So much glory is given to Him in the process of experiencing what He designed our bodies to do- on His timeline.
As my idea of my body, birth, and God's role in all of it has changed, the idea of being in a place that supports this with people who support this has been something I've thought a lot about. In fact, I even interviewed 2 midwives at the beginning of my pregnancy with Brinley just to get information about home birth or a birth center birth. At that point, the idea of giving birth outside of the hospital setting still seemed somewhat crazy and foreign but was also intriguing. Ultimately, though, I couldn't let go of my OB. She had earned my deepest trust when she had delivered the twins and allowed me to avoid a C-section despite an intense delivery of "twin B". I felt that she was someone who had taken risks for me and I truly felt like she was someone who was doing her best to support the things I found important in a setting where it might not be the most popular thing. I still feel like this in many ways. She is someone I know I can trust. As an OB in a hospital setting, she will always have my high recommendation.
With Brinley, I decided that while natural birth was becoming more important to me, that the bond I had with my doctor was more important. I wanted a natural birth, and I was sure my doctor would fully support me in that- I had no doubt. But I was also still unsure about my resolve to actual follow through with a natural birth. It was something I believed I could do and I wanted to try. At that point, though, I was still ok with the idea of pain medicine and intervention for non-emergent reasons. It was all I had experienced and it had always gone fine. It was what I knew and I didn't feel intimidated by the possibility of things going that way.
This time, though, I knew both medicated and natural birth. I had experienced both. I have had 21 months to more fully appreciate all the amazing aspects of God's design in the birth process and He has challenged me more with surrendering things to Him. With Brinley, my natural birth in the hospital with my OB was never threatened. I wasn't even fully convinced that it was what I wanted to do, but even though I had heard and read and KNEW that hospitals and timelines and schedules could completely devastate a natural birth quickly, there was never any moments of feeling like my natural birth with Brinley was at risk. That was the difference this time around. Throughout my pregnancy I thought about midwives and non-hospital delivery a few times, but I firmly believed that if everything was truly uncomplicated that my experience at the hospital with my OB would be completely fine. The only problems were that ultimately I was unrealistic in my expectations and view of my relationship with my OB and that I also failed to consider the fact that I now knew how painful a natural birth really is and I knew that there were many options for dealing with this that weren't available at the hospital I was delivering at.
Hearing Titus's birth story would not convey any loss or struggle, since everything worked out extremely well. Even my best friend who was with me the whole time seemed shocked when I told her I felt like I never wanted to give birth in that way again. Since she couldn't see what I was wrestling with internally, she only saw a beautiful birth that God covered in blessings. It ultimately comes down to the fact that I felt like I had to fight my way through the process and felt very unsupported to give birth in the way I feel like makes the most sense.
So now for the actual story:
So I left off my last post on Tuesday night, December 17th. I was 38 weeks that day and Titus was still happy inside me. I was waiting to see what God had planned.
My next OB appointment was scheduled for Monday, December 23rd. I was trying to prepare myself fully that I might actually be going to that appointment.
I had contractions through the night again on Tuesday night, but they were far apart and nothing exciting. I continued to contract very spaced out and sporadically on Wednesday, too. On Wednesday night, Chip and I went on a date to run some errands. While we were out, I had 2 contractions. For the rest of the night....nothing. I woke up Thursday morning and still, nothing. Chip was working that day from 8am-4pm. I don't remember much about the day except that it was pretty uneventful.
At 3:45pm, I was sitting on the couch doing some transcription work and I had a very strong contraction. It really jumped out at me since I hadn't had any contractions since the evening before. (As a side note, our chiropractor had predicted the day before at our appointment that my body would be ready 30 hours from that time which would have been at almost 3:45pm exactly on Thursday - kinda cool) As the afternoon/early evening continued, I began cramping and having irregular contractions again. Chip got home from work and we had salmon, brown rice, and vegetables for dinner and got the kids to bed. I didn't say anything about the contractions because they were no different from Monday night and I was hesitant to get excited and think they might mean anything.
We had an apple pie that we had gotten from a friend, so after we got the kids in bed we called Chip's parents to see if they wanted to come over and have pie with us. They said sure and came over around 8pm. Before they got to the house, I let Chip know that I had been having contractions on and off all evening and I thought it might be nice to go for a walk if his parents were up for staying at our house with the kids. His parents came and Chip and his mom and dad had pie. I was already full and didn't want to eat more if I was really starting labor. I decided I'd have pie later if nothing seemed to be happening.
After dessert, Chip's dad went home and his mom stayed at our house with the kids. We went out on a walk for about 15-20 minutes and just in that amount of time the contractions seemed to be stronger and more consistent than they had on Monday night.
At 9:18 I text my mom: "Definitely activity, but still super unclear...Dawn (my mother-in-law) went home to get stuff and we will go out & walk more but who knows...xoxo"
During this time, I was starting to really struggle. Emotionally, I was so torn. I was holding back. I was being so guarded because I didn't want it to be a repeat of Monday night, thinking it was time only to be disappointed. But because of this, I wasn't allowing my heart to get ready and prepared, either, and I knew it. I spent a lot of time pacing around our basement in the dark and laboring through sporadic contractions and then asked Chip to come down stairs and be with me and pray with me, asking God to help me again to truly surrender the night and the pregnancy and everything to Him. He allowed me to have peace and relax into whatever was happening. I was able to have joy and excitement that it might be time, while still knowing that it might NOT be time. I was really thankful for this time together with Chip.
My mother-in-law got back and we went for another short walk and by 9:43 I was texting my aunt and best friend letting them know I was going to the hospital just to see if I was making any progress. Labor was not hard at that point, but I also felt like something was actually happening. {The decision to go in was a first small part of my internal/emotional struggle. The hospital was not where I wanted to be and not where I wanted to labor. There was a huge part of me that wanted to just wait until I knew it was close to time. Part of me wanted to wait until my water broke. But while I didn't really want to be at the hospital, I also didn't want to deliver in a rushed/emergent type situation. I didn't want to deliver in triage with nurses running around and no time to call my doctor. I didn't want to deliver in the car or unassisted at home. I REALLY wanted my doctor to deliver me and I really wanted things to be calm and smooth, so I felt like I needed to go in on the earlier side of things}
At 10:07pm I text my mom: "At hospital getting checked out.... : ) We'll see...."
I waited in the triage room for FOREVER waiting for them to come in (they could tell I wasn't in hard labor).
They finally came in and checked me and at 11:11pm I text my mom: "6cm and 80per effaced...: )" At that point, we knew they'd be admitting me and I let my aunt and friend know to head to the hospital.
{Here is where more turmoil began. Part of what made me feel comfortable with a natural delivery was the fact that my doctor had assured me that she was very on-board with it and things had gone so well with Brinley. She had given me her medical assistant's cell phone number and told me to text her so that she could contact my doctor if my doctor wasn't on-call when I went in. I was very sure that she would make a huge effort to be the one in charge of me during my hospital time...completely confident in it. She was ok with me not having an IV and was ok with me eating during labor. While I was in triage, I found out that my doctor was not on call. I told the nurse that I wanted to do everything naturally and had gone naturally with my last baby. I also told her I was texting someone who would be in touch with my doctor. In order to admit me, the nurse got in touch with the on-call doctor. I had started to ask at one appointment who my doctor shared call with (she is in a practice by herself) and she had confirmed one doctor who I felt decently comfortable with, but I think we were both fairly confident that I wouldn't need to worry because she'd be there and so we never even discussed any of the other doctors she shares call with {so I didn't even realize she DID share call with other doctors}. So that night, the on call doctor was a doctor I'd never heard of before. When the nurse called him to admit me, she came back and told me he was recommending an epidural. For me, someone who wasn't even wanting ANYTHING in an IV, hearing that a doctor I'd never met and had NO IDEA what his views of anything were was recommending an epidural before I was even admitted and was going to be the one calling the shots about my care if my doctor didn't show up was very difficult for me. Thankfully, once I was admitted he ok'ed no IV. I didn't even ask about eating. But it is very intimidating to suddenly feel as though decisions are potentially going to be made with very little discussion and with absolutely NO personal connection or care associated. I felt very much like I was purely "business" for him since we had absolutely no contact with each other}
So, I had been walking around the hospital halls while I was in triage and was waiting to be taken to my labor and delivery room. As I walked down the hall back to my triage room, my aunt and best friend both arrived so we all went to my triage room together. The nurse from labor and delivery had just been there to get us, so we waited while they let her know we were back and ready to move us to my room.
The medical assistant from my doctor's office had responded quickly to my texts, but her responses did not put me at ease. She asked me if I thought I would be able to wait until morning to give birth. I responded that I had no idea. She said my doctor had been on call and up most the night the previous night and was exhausted. She said that my doctor wasn't far away but she may not be able to be in until morning. I asked her what "morning" meant and asked if she was talking like 6am. She said maybe closer to 7am. ALL of my texts back and forth with her gave me the impression that she was actually talking to my doctor and being the go-between I had been led to believe she'd be. {At this point I had SUCH mixed emotions. I was somewhat taken aback that it seemed like my doctor might not come in for me if I couldn't wait until morning, but I also didn't want to believe it. I desperately wanted to believe that if my doctor really knew it was time that if she cared about me as much as I thought she did- really truly believed she did- then she'd wouldn't be able to stay away.}
WRITTEN 3 MONTHS LATER:
[I am picking back up writing this 3 months later and details are much more fuzzy. I have put it off for so long on purpose. I'm sad that I've forgotten details, but I think I was guarding myself from some of them too] I got to my labor and delivery room. Contractions were slowing down. I continued to try to walk. And squat. I had to ask the nurses for a wireless monitor so I wouldn't have to sit in bed to be monitored.
Labor was completely stalling and I knew it. I think a huge part of it stalling was due to the fact that I wanted my doctor to be there so much. I was so antsy. I didn't want to be at the hospital with nothing happening. I wanted to labor but I also was so worried that a doctor I didn't know and didn't trust might be the one who'd come. I was feeling let down by my doctor...disappointed that she wasn't following through with things I had told myself she'd do, but things she herself had never actually said she'd do {mainly, be there for me no matter what} I started to realize that while she is my ONLY OB, that I'm NOT her only patient. I realized that I might not be as important to her as she was to me. I also felt very alone in my confusion. I especially was wishing that Chip might see how afraid I was feeling. Even when I told him, he didn't understand....couldn't understand. I felt like choices and care concerning my body were potentially going to be made by someone I had no relationship with. I was worried that I wouldn't have the resolve to stick with what I knew I wanted. I was tired. I was feeling extremely vulnerable.
As each hour passed and no one heard anything from my doctor, the more discouraged and betrayed I felt. By around 4am, I was really not having significant contractions at all. But I was also around 7cm dilated. I felt completely trapped. There was no way they were going to send me home. But there was also nothing happening. I wasn't sure if I should rest or keep trying to walk and squat and get him out. By 5am I knew I needed to rest. I was hopeful that my doctor might come in time, but was still wondering why I hadn't heard from her.
At 6am the nurses switched shift. My first nurse had been pretty hands-off. She didn't offer much support as far as labor goes. I had to ask her for things. If I knew what I needed, she was able to help get them for me, but she really had no input or suggestions for ways to support my labor naturally.
The new nurses were not much better. I had two nurses caring for me and it didn't take long for me to figure out that one of them was new.
At 6:30am, shortly after my new nurses had introduced themselves, my phone in my room rang. It was my doctor sounding like she had just woken up. She informed me that she had just found out I was in the hospital. I couldn't decide if this was good news or bad news. I was feeling relieved that she was contacting me directly the minute she found out I was there. I was feeling upset that I had been led to believe that she KNEW I was there several hours earlier. She said that both her medical assistant and the on-call doctor had text her but she hadn't seen them and that no one had tried calling her house.
She told me that she wanted me to try start Pitocin. I asked why she couldn't come break my water. She said that the nurses had told her that the baby was floating and breaking my water wouldn't be ideal. This made me SO upset! The nurses were giving my doctor a report of my status from a check done by a previous nurse HOURS before. I asked my doctor how the nurses knew this if they hadn't even checked me and she seemed surprised and told me that she'd have them check me again and if it seemed like the baby was lower and more favorable then I could wait until she could make it in and she'd break my water.
It seemed clear to me by our conversation that if I wanted to do things my way (have my water broken instead of starting pitocin) that I would have to wait on her until she was ready to be there. The new nurses checked me and said it felt like the baby had moved down and was secure and that breaking my water should be fine. So....I waited.
My doctor finally came in around 9am. We talked for a few minutes and she checked me and then broke my water. It took her a few minutes to break it. The amniotic sac was very strong and was slipping around in her hands. She finally got it and the warm water came in gushes. She then made a comment about how she really shouldn't have broken my water because the baby wasn't as low as she would have liked and that I needed to sit in the bed for 20 minutes and she left the room.
I waited in the bed and finally asked if it would be ok to get up and the nurses said of course (almost as if I hadn't really needed to stay in the bed in the first place). I decided to get in the shower to see if I could relax and get contractions to come. They started to pick up in intensity quickly and soon they were hard, intense waves of pain. I would stand in the shower and rock until I felt one coming, then I would squat into it, holding the hand held shower up to my belly. I was wishing I could have the water so many places at once. It felt so good. I would stand up and rock and sway again, and then squat into the next wave of pain. I must have been in the shower for 45 minutes or so, but it didn't feel like it was that long. That was the point where time got all screwy for me.
Early on during my shower labor, my doctor came in to check on me. It was probably about 20 or 30 minutes after she had broken my water. She saw I was "in my zone" and left. She informed me later that she was coming in again to suggest pitocin. What she calls a "whiff of pit"....the lowest dose...just enough to help things. This minor little detail...one that I wouldn't have thought twice about in the past....makes my stomach anxious even now when I think about it. I thought she knew how much I wanted NOTHING intravenous to augment labor, especially if there was no indication of problems and I thought she would support that 100%. To find out that she was going to suggest it and try to get me to change my mind for no apparent reason other than that she wanted to speed things up lets me know that either she didn't understand how much I wanted no pitocin, or it tells me that she really didn't support me the way I thought she did. Thankfully, since I was "in my zone" she didn't need to hurry anything along and she left me alone.
The nurses asked me to let them know when things started to feel different. I got to the point where things were definitely changing. I knew I didn't need to push yet, but told them things were different.
They called my doctor in to check me. She came over to the shower and said something to the effect of "I love you, but not enough to get wet. You need to come out of the shower." It was a horrible feeling. I didn't want to leave the warm water...the only relief I was getting. They reassured me that I could just get back in if I wasn't ready to push. The only problem is that it isn't that easy. When you're dealing with the transition stage of labor, it takes focus and so much energy to just MOVE. Going from the shower to the bed or the bed to the shower may not seem like a big deal at all. They were literally 10 feet away from each other (or less). But I knew it wouldn't be so simple to just "get back in".
I made it to the bed and my doctor checked me and said I was at 9cm. She asked if I wanted to try to push. The only problem? My body wasn't wanting or ready to push AT ALL. I still don't understand why she would have asked me that. It only confused me. I told her no, it wasn't time. She asked me what I wanted to do. I had NO IDEA what I wanted to do! I wanted some help knowing WHAT to do. This is where, for the first time, I really understood how incredibly helpful a doula could have been. Oh, I was wishing for one. Chip and my aunt and my friend WANTED to help. My aunt was TRYING to help. But she wasn't sure what to try and I had no idea how to instruct her to help my body. I moaned that I didn't know what I wanted {I wanted it to be OVER}. My doctor told me to get up on my knees facing the back of the bed, with the bed in the upright position and my arms resting on the back. Somehow I managed to get in that position. I felt like I was in that position for an eternity. In reality, it was only for a few minutes. After a few contractions {remember. only a few, but felt like eternity. time gets all weird} I said I needed to lay back down.
Shortly after this, I looked around the room and asked where my doctor was. She had gone out again. I asked for her to come back in. She came in and told me that she thought I probably just needed to push. And now, I agreed, I did. It still wasn't urgent, but I knew there had been more change. She told me to push and then immediately told me not to. She said she needed to get ready first (knowing that I can be quite an efficient pusher). She gowned up and I started pushing. I'm not sure how many pushes it took, but from the time I got out of the shower until the time Titus was born was only around 15 minutes.
My sadness mostly comes from knowing that this is an end of my
relationship with my OB in the way that I've known it. She has delivered
all 6 of my babies and that has formed a bond between us. I have been
in her office SO MUCH over the past 7 years. But the
WRITTEN 12-20-16 ON TITUS'S 3rd BIRTHDAY:
I left things above just how they were....just the way they have been left all of this time. I left space for the rest of Titus's birth. But at the end I was also trying to figure out how to process and work through the dread I was feeling in facing the fact that I had no choice left but to walk away from a doctor I loved and the only process I knew, but a process in which I could see that things just weren't right. I didn't quite know why the process wasn't right yet, though. I have learned so much more since I was last writing this out.
Titus is the only birth I have on video. For awhile, I hated watching it. But I am so glad I have it. Tonight was the first time I was able to watch it and not hate it quite so much.....almost not hate it at all. There are still things I cringe at and still things I am sorry about. But there are things I learned that I could have never learned any other way.
I am ready to publish this, now. There is still a lot I am leaving out about the moments of his actual birth. I have the video of him actually being born, plus, some of those details just aren't that important to me.
I do need to note that one of the things that has stuck with me the most over all of this time was the care and support of our good friend and chiropractor, Kevin Ross. Throughout that night, he was quick to respond to my texts and was one of the few people who I felt was truly supporting me. I was surprised tonight, as I read through what I had written, that I hadn't mentioned my interaction with him. I almost think I didn't want to associate him with this story, as strange as that sounds.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Titus's Pre-Birth Story
I need to write this down.
I haven't blogged in a long time....not because I don't want to, but because I only have so much time in a day and I have to make choices about how to spend it. Even though I would LOVE to blog more and I would really enjoy having the recorded thoughts to go back to, it just doesn't make the cut as one of the top time choices anymore.
But this. This is one of those things I just need to write....as a way of processing, a way of finalizing, and a way of remembering.
Today I am 38 weeks pregnant with our sixth child. I have never been pregnant for this long before. Each of my other 4 pregnancies was over by now. My babies have all been good-sized and healthy. My body always feels so ready to be done.
Each time that I've been pregnant, we have known and discussed that the birth of our babies is in God's timing. We always SAY that we don't KNOW when it will happen. And this is true. But God has also been EXTREMELY gracious in allowing us to pick dates on the calendar and say "that would be great" and then somehow, it has always worked out just like we hoped. My doctor has always stripped my membranes and that night I have gone into labor and then, out comes the baby...just like that...except for the twins. But with them, I begged and pleaded for God to allow them to be born soon....and they were.
But see...here is the funny thing about me and about God. Me....I'm prideful. And I sometimes forget that I don't run the show. And God? He doesn't let his kids get away with things like that.
The first time it worked out "perfectly", I was shocked and in awe. I felt so incredibly blessed and special that God allowed my baby girl to come when she did.
Then, the next time, it "worked" again. And this time, instead of just worshiping God and His timing, I started to let this little lie creep in that it was somehow US making things happen. Me and my OB and walking with Chip. You know....cause that's what we did. And that worked!
So then I had the twins.....that whole thing was just totally different so I'm skipping over that part.
But then came Brinley. And I knew things COULD work differently...but I got my plan in place. Strip membranes. Walk. Baby comes out.
And that's what happened.
So now, here I am. From the very first days that we saw those double pink lines on the pregnancy test I started to plan. Once my doctor confirmed my due date, I counted out my weeks and confidently said "This is the week I'll have my baby." Sure I was SAYING the right things...like "well, each pregnancy can be different" or "It's never for sure, but this is what will PROBABLY happen". But I was also feeling fairly confident as I planned.
Somewhere along the line, God started to intervene and started asking of me "How do you know? How can you be so certain?" And that was where the heart struggle began. Because I would say back "Well of course, God, YOU are in charge....but I also just KNOW this is how you have allowed my body to work EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. Why would it change now?"
A few weeks ago, I really started wrestling with the question of WHY I was so set on having my doctor strip my membranes when there was really no NEED for it. I always justified it with selfish motives.
1. All of my babies have been early and big. I don't WANT an even bigger baby. That would HURT even more...besides, I LIKE teeny babies and mine are already not TEENY. {Stupid, stupid reason.}
2. The end of pregnancy is long and uncomfortable. I want it over as soon as possible. I've always loved being done sooner than later. {Aww...poor me. Like another couple weeks will kill me. And how come I can't seem to remember that it is FAR better to be pregnant for TOO many weeks than go through the struggle SO many women face of either not experiencing pregnancy at all or struggling to stay pregnant long enough for their baby to develop to a good point.}
3. I don't want my baby to be born too close to Christmas. {This one makes me SO mad at myself. Why does it matter?? I should have learned my lesson after hearing myself say over and over that I didn't want to have another summer baby right after I had Ryken. Ya know what?! Who cares if it is heat or cold or Christmas or September 11th?}
So anyway...I had all my petty little reasons for why I wanted things to go according to my schedule.
All along the way, God would question me. I would answer. I'd convince myself that my reasons were justified even though deep down I knew they weren't.
So at my 36 week appointment, I asked my OB....you'll strip my membranes at 37 weeks, right?! And she. said. no. She said I had no issues and had to be 38 weeks. GASP! Part one of my plans being "ruined". At first I wasn't happy. I thought "But I've NEVER gone THAT long. And Brinley was 8lbs. And. And. And......
But she wouldn't budge. So I just had to change my plans. I said....ok, God. YOU can bring this baby out sooner if you want. But if not, at least she'll do something at 38 weeks. Even in THAT thinking, I knew that it sounded wrong to make it seem like we'd just "help God out a little bit" or something. I tried to rationalize that it wasn't really what I MEANT, it just SOUNDED that way in my head but I KNEW He was really in control.
So. I got to my 37 week appointment....and I had the WORST cold I have had in a LONG time. And I thought. Ah-HA! So THAT was what you were doing God. You just knew I would be too run down to handle having a baby this week. To top things off.....after being VERY insistent on waiting until 38 weeks AT LEAST, my doctor decided that she'd strip my membranes the next week at 37 weeks 6 days.
That was the same time she had done it with Kenzie....so I wouldn't have to go longer afterall, I thought. It was funny because I was still having the same conversations with God.....do I REALLY trust HIS timing? Do I know that we can do things and plan things but that HE is in CONTROL...not us? Yes, yes, of course God...I'd say back. And thank you SO much for working it all out how I want. Again. Just like you've done each time.
So I got my new plan together. And boy was it a good one. I planned food for the week. We planned out all of Chip's days off. We planned who would take the kids when. I got laundry done. We just knew this was it. And all along the way we'd say we "hoped" it would be the day we had the baby. And we'd say "this COULD be the day" but I really thought He was just going to let MY plan work again. I really did.
And so, yesterday came. The plan was to go to the doctor, get my membranes stripped, finish up last minute things, pack our bags, go for some walks to pick up the contractions, and head to the hospital to have a baby. All along the way I was saying "but I'm prepared for it not to work out" and "God may have a different plan". We were telling our kids that only God knows when little Titus will arrive. I just wasn't believing it myself. I was trying to believe what I know. I was trying to REALLY trust God's plan and time. But I still wanted to feel in control. I knew my plan was a good one and I wanted it to go my way.
So the plan began perfectly. Went to the doctor. She was optimistic and stripped my membranes, saying not to have the baby before she got done with her exercise class at 6:45. I got home. I made food for people to have on-hand for watching the kids. I got laundry done. We switched cribs and rocking chairs around. I was crampy and having irregular contractions. It was going just right. My contractions slowed in the afternoon....like they tend to do....and right around 5:30 or 6 they were picking back up....just like they tend to do. Chip even came home from work early to help me finish getting the kids to bed and pack. Everything was ready. We were all set.
Chip's mom came over and we started on our walk. Good contractions came....every 3-4 minutes. For about 4 contractions. Then? A big pause. But this was NOT supposed to happen! I'd have another here or there...every 10, 12, 15 minutes. But this had never happened with other labors of mine. When I walked, the contractions were supposed to come and they were supposed to do their job. It had happened every time. We went back home to go to the bathroom and drink water and rest for a minute. I was having some other labor signs upon using the bathroom. OH GOOD! It was working after all, I thought.
So we headed back out. And again.....3-4 close, strong contractions....then? Even bigger gaps. We went home to rest. I was getting tired. I thought...ok, God. You're just trying to get me to rely on you. I get it. I really do. This plan is yours.....there, I surrendered, ok? Now you can let me have the baby.
We rested and ate and headed back out. And really....nothing. The contractions were so much less consistent. I said we should just go home and rest. I figured God was putting me to the test.....like since I said it was HIS way, that I needed to stop DOING and just let HIM do it. I really thought I would just decide to go to bed...that would be my "surrender" and then my water would break or something.
So we went to bed. And contractions would come sporadically....never close. 30 mins apart. 45 mins apart. An hour apart. I was so unsettled. I was still waiting for God to come through with MY plan. I was still unwilling to let go of the planned days off and all the other little details I had figured out would work *perfectly* (kids going to Tucson, when we'd celebrate Christmas with who, what meals I had "covered" for whoever was watching the kids, etc).
We woke up this morning and things were even more settled down. Still I was unwilling to accept that today might not be the day. God was just making me wait a little bit longer, but He'd still honor my plan. After all, we still had all day, right?
All day He worked on me...from the start of when I woke up, and even in the night, I think, as I wrestled to sleep, just waiting for something to happen.
This afternoon came. I was finding the blessings of being home with my kiddos...trying to soothe the disappointment and find things to be thankful for. But it was clear in my heart and mind that I was finding things to be thankful for to cover the disappointment. It wasn't true thanksgiving. It wasn't true joy and contentment in God's plan.
I took a nap. I woke up. I laid on the couch. My thoughts started to workup the next "plan" trying to figure out what I could do when....could I go to my doctor sooner? Would she try again? Should we try to go walk again? Is there something I can take? Something I can do? And God said STOP.
Yep. God talks to me. It's pretty incredible really.
But it was clear. He's been asking me to just trust Him all along the way. I've been saying I do. He knows I don't. And this time, it wasn't such a gentle "stop" that He said. It was clear. I was disobeying. I was making choices. He was asking me to just truly REST in HIS plan and to STOP making my own in this particular thing at this particular time. He was asking me to STOP justifying my plans.
And I finally stopped. I finally handed all my plans over. It's terrible and wonderful all at once. It's almost like every time He was asking me to give him my plans, I would open my hands up...stop grasping them tightly....but I would never place them on the table in front of me. I would never let them completely out of my hands. I would start to wrap my fingers around them again and He would challenge me and I would open up all my fingers. My plans would lay flat in my palms, ready for Him to take them if He must....but I was not going to lay them down myself.
Today, He asked me to LAY THEM DOWN. All the way down. And so. That's where I'm at.
I was talking to my mom about it. She encouraged me saying that this is part of how I am able to function as a mom of 5 little ones, almost 6. I pay attention to details. I plan. I get things ready. But she agreed that once I cross that line and go from being used by God to wanting to be the one in control, that it is wrong and there is no way to justify it. And that is the place I was at.
So now I'm free. My plans are gone. Now I wait. And I rest in my time of waiting. And I remember others who wait.....wait to know where God is calling their family to live....wait for God to send the next baby.....wait for God to bring a job. Instead of being focused on myself, I can spend time praying for others.
There are still hard parts. Each day I feel less capable of keeping up with my family and more in need of others...I think God has that as part of the plan too.....remembering to allow others to serve me and not always feel like I am letting them down when I can't keep up at my normal pace. He's making me stop and take time to savor each of the kids right where they are at....especially my little Brinley baby who won't be the baby anymore. I've had some sweet moments in the midst of the discomfort and I am so glad He walked me through all of this.
I am almost completely beyond the disappointment (if I said ALL the way I'd be lying...there are still small moments when the struggle wants to creep in and I have to push it away) but instead am looking forward to just seeing what HIS plan is. Even if it "messes up" everything I think I want, it will be GOOD because it is HIS way.
I know this is not anything new. I know that reading this may even be boring to most of you, especially if you're not in the midst of the true struggle of surrender right now. But I needed to write it all down. I needed to remember how He was growing me and shaping me as much on the inside as on the outside. I needed to remember that even in this, every day of Titus so far has been worth it, because his time inside and the anticipation of his arrival has done so much to bring me to a point of trusting God more fully.
And how timely, that God would be so well-pleased to teach me these things in this time of advent. This time of remembering with anticipation the coming of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ....of his first coming, when the Creator God became flesh and dwelt among us to be our perfect sacrifice...and also for the anticipation of Him coming again.
I can't wait to update you with the rest of the story. No matter what happens, it will be good. It is His story.
I haven't blogged in a long time....not because I don't want to, but because I only have so much time in a day and I have to make choices about how to spend it. Even though I would LOVE to blog more and I would really enjoy having the recorded thoughts to go back to, it just doesn't make the cut as one of the top time choices anymore.
But this. This is one of those things I just need to write....as a way of processing, a way of finalizing, and a way of remembering.
Today I am 38 weeks pregnant with our sixth child. I have never been pregnant for this long before. Each of my other 4 pregnancies was over by now. My babies have all been good-sized and healthy. My body always feels so ready to be done.
Each time that I've been pregnant, we have known and discussed that the birth of our babies is in God's timing. We always SAY that we don't KNOW when it will happen. And this is true. But God has also been EXTREMELY gracious in allowing us to pick dates on the calendar and say "that would be great" and then somehow, it has always worked out just like we hoped. My doctor has always stripped my membranes and that night I have gone into labor and then, out comes the baby...just like that...except for the twins. But with them, I begged and pleaded for God to allow them to be born soon....and they were.
But see...here is the funny thing about me and about God. Me....I'm prideful. And I sometimes forget that I don't run the show. And God? He doesn't let his kids get away with things like that.
The first time it worked out "perfectly", I was shocked and in awe. I felt so incredibly blessed and special that God allowed my baby girl to come when she did.
Then, the next time, it "worked" again. And this time, instead of just worshiping God and His timing, I started to let this little lie creep in that it was somehow US making things happen. Me and my OB and walking with Chip. You know....cause that's what we did. And that worked!
So then I had the twins.....that whole thing was just totally different so I'm skipping over that part.
But then came Brinley. And I knew things COULD work differently...but I got my plan in place. Strip membranes. Walk. Baby comes out.
And that's what happened.
So now, here I am. From the very first days that we saw those double pink lines on the pregnancy test I started to plan. Once my doctor confirmed my due date, I counted out my weeks and confidently said "This is the week I'll have my baby." Sure I was SAYING the right things...like "well, each pregnancy can be different" or "It's never for sure, but this is what will PROBABLY happen". But I was also feeling fairly confident as I planned.
Somewhere along the line, God started to intervene and started asking of me "How do you know? How can you be so certain?" And that was where the heart struggle began. Because I would say back "Well of course, God, YOU are in charge....but I also just KNOW this is how you have allowed my body to work EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. Why would it change now?"
A few weeks ago, I really started wrestling with the question of WHY I was so set on having my doctor strip my membranes when there was really no NEED for it. I always justified it with selfish motives.
1. All of my babies have been early and big. I don't WANT an even bigger baby. That would HURT even more...besides, I LIKE teeny babies and mine are already not TEENY. {Stupid, stupid reason.}
2. The end of pregnancy is long and uncomfortable. I want it over as soon as possible. I've always loved being done sooner than later. {Aww...poor me. Like another couple weeks will kill me. And how come I can't seem to remember that it is FAR better to be pregnant for TOO many weeks than go through the struggle SO many women face of either not experiencing pregnancy at all or struggling to stay pregnant long enough for their baby to develop to a good point.}
3. I don't want my baby to be born too close to Christmas. {This one makes me SO mad at myself. Why does it matter?? I should have learned my lesson after hearing myself say over and over that I didn't want to have another summer baby right after I had Ryken. Ya know what?! Who cares if it is heat or cold or Christmas or September 11th?}
So anyway...I had all my petty little reasons for why I wanted things to go according to my schedule.
All along the way, God would question me. I would answer. I'd convince myself that my reasons were justified even though deep down I knew they weren't.
So at my 36 week appointment, I asked my OB....you'll strip my membranes at 37 weeks, right?! And she. said. no. She said I had no issues and had to be 38 weeks. GASP! Part one of my plans being "ruined". At first I wasn't happy. I thought "But I've NEVER gone THAT long. And Brinley was 8lbs. And. And. And......
But she wouldn't budge. So I just had to change my plans. I said....ok, God. YOU can bring this baby out sooner if you want. But if not, at least she'll do something at 38 weeks. Even in THAT thinking, I knew that it sounded wrong to make it seem like we'd just "help God out a little bit" or something. I tried to rationalize that it wasn't really what I MEANT, it just SOUNDED that way in my head but I KNEW He was really in control.
So. I got to my 37 week appointment....and I had the WORST cold I have had in a LONG time. And I thought. Ah-HA! So THAT was what you were doing God. You just knew I would be too run down to handle having a baby this week. To top things off.....after being VERY insistent on waiting until 38 weeks AT LEAST, my doctor decided that she'd strip my membranes the next week at 37 weeks 6 days.
That was the same time she had done it with Kenzie....so I wouldn't have to go longer afterall, I thought. It was funny because I was still having the same conversations with God.....do I REALLY trust HIS timing? Do I know that we can do things and plan things but that HE is in CONTROL...not us? Yes, yes, of course God...I'd say back. And thank you SO much for working it all out how I want. Again. Just like you've done each time.
So I got my new plan together. And boy was it a good one. I planned food for the week. We planned out all of Chip's days off. We planned who would take the kids when. I got laundry done. We just knew this was it. And all along the way we'd say we "hoped" it would be the day we had the baby. And we'd say "this COULD be the day" but I really thought He was just going to let MY plan work again. I really did.
And so, yesterday came. The plan was to go to the doctor, get my membranes stripped, finish up last minute things, pack our bags, go for some walks to pick up the contractions, and head to the hospital to have a baby. All along the way I was saying "but I'm prepared for it not to work out" and "God may have a different plan". We were telling our kids that only God knows when little Titus will arrive. I just wasn't believing it myself. I was trying to believe what I know. I was trying to REALLY trust God's plan and time. But I still wanted to feel in control. I knew my plan was a good one and I wanted it to go my way.
So the plan began perfectly. Went to the doctor. She was optimistic and stripped my membranes, saying not to have the baby before she got done with her exercise class at 6:45. I got home. I made food for people to have on-hand for watching the kids. I got laundry done. We switched cribs and rocking chairs around. I was crampy and having irregular contractions. It was going just right. My contractions slowed in the afternoon....like they tend to do....and right around 5:30 or 6 they were picking back up....just like they tend to do. Chip even came home from work early to help me finish getting the kids to bed and pack. Everything was ready. We were all set.
Chip's mom came over and we started on our walk. Good contractions came....every 3-4 minutes. For about 4 contractions. Then? A big pause. But this was NOT supposed to happen! I'd have another here or there...every 10, 12, 15 minutes. But this had never happened with other labors of mine. When I walked, the contractions were supposed to come and they were supposed to do their job. It had happened every time. We went back home to go to the bathroom and drink water and rest for a minute. I was having some other labor signs upon using the bathroom. OH GOOD! It was working after all, I thought.
So we headed back out. And again.....3-4 close, strong contractions....then? Even bigger gaps. We went home to rest. I was getting tired. I thought...ok, God. You're just trying to get me to rely on you. I get it. I really do. This plan is yours.....there, I surrendered, ok? Now you can let me have the baby.
We rested and ate and headed back out. And really....nothing. The contractions were so much less consistent. I said we should just go home and rest. I figured God was putting me to the test.....like since I said it was HIS way, that I needed to stop DOING and just let HIM do it. I really thought I would just decide to go to bed...that would be my "surrender" and then my water would break or something.
So we went to bed. And contractions would come sporadically....never close. 30 mins apart. 45 mins apart. An hour apart. I was so unsettled. I was still waiting for God to come through with MY plan. I was still unwilling to let go of the planned days off and all the other little details I had figured out would work *perfectly* (kids going to Tucson, when we'd celebrate Christmas with who, what meals I had "covered" for whoever was watching the kids, etc).
We woke up this morning and things were even more settled down. Still I was unwilling to accept that today might not be the day. God was just making me wait a little bit longer, but He'd still honor my plan. After all, we still had all day, right?
All day He worked on me...from the start of when I woke up, and even in the night, I think, as I wrestled to sleep, just waiting for something to happen.
This afternoon came. I was finding the blessings of being home with my kiddos...trying to soothe the disappointment and find things to be thankful for. But it was clear in my heart and mind that I was finding things to be thankful for to cover the disappointment. It wasn't true thanksgiving. It wasn't true joy and contentment in God's plan.
I took a nap. I woke up. I laid on the couch. My thoughts started to workup the next "plan" trying to figure out what I could do when....could I go to my doctor sooner? Would she try again? Should we try to go walk again? Is there something I can take? Something I can do? And God said STOP.
Yep. God talks to me. It's pretty incredible really.
But it was clear. He's been asking me to just trust Him all along the way. I've been saying I do. He knows I don't. And this time, it wasn't such a gentle "stop" that He said. It was clear. I was disobeying. I was making choices. He was asking me to just truly REST in HIS plan and to STOP making my own in this particular thing at this particular time. He was asking me to STOP justifying my plans.
And I finally stopped. I finally handed all my plans over. It's terrible and wonderful all at once. It's almost like every time He was asking me to give him my plans, I would open my hands up...stop grasping them tightly....but I would never place them on the table in front of me. I would never let them completely out of my hands. I would start to wrap my fingers around them again and He would challenge me and I would open up all my fingers. My plans would lay flat in my palms, ready for Him to take them if He must....but I was not going to lay them down myself.
Today, He asked me to LAY THEM DOWN. All the way down. And so. That's where I'm at.
I was talking to my mom about it. She encouraged me saying that this is part of how I am able to function as a mom of 5 little ones, almost 6. I pay attention to details. I plan. I get things ready. But she agreed that once I cross that line and go from being used by God to wanting to be the one in control, that it is wrong and there is no way to justify it. And that is the place I was at.
So now I'm free. My plans are gone. Now I wait. And I rest in my time of waiting. And I remember others who wait.....wait to know where God is calling their family to live....wait for God to send the next baby.....wait for God to bring a job. Instead of being focused on myself, I can spend time praying for others.
There are still hard parts. Each day I feel less capable of keeping up with my family and more in need of others...I think God has that as part of the plan too.....remembering to allow others to serve me and not always feel like I am letting them down when I can't keep up at my normal pace. He's making me stop and take time to savor each of the kids right where they are at....especially my little Brinley baby who won't be the baby anymore. I've had some sweet moments in the midst of the discomfort and I am so glad He walked me through all of this.
I am almost completely beyond the disappointment (if I said ALL the way I'd be lying...there are still small moments when the struggle wants to creep in and I have to push it away) but instead am looking forward to just seeing what HIS plan is. Even if it "messes up" everything I think I want, it will be GOOD because it is HIS way.
I know this is not anything new. I know that reading this may even be boring to most of you, especially if you're not in the midst of the true struggle of surrender right now. But I needed to write it all down. I needed to remember how He was growing me and shaping me as much on the inside as on the outside. I needed to remember that even in this, every day of Titus so far has been worth it, because his time inside and the anticipation of his arrival has done so much to bring me to a point of trusting God more fully.
And how timely, that God would be so well-pleased to teach me these things in this time of advent. This time of remembering with anticipation the coming of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ....of his first coming, when the Creator God became flesh and dwelt among us to be our perfect sacrifice...and also for the anticipation of Him coming again.
I can't wait to update you with the rest of the story. No matter what happens, it will be good. It is His story.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Baby #6
I thought it took me too long to announce baby #5 on this blog. But apparently I get worse with each one : )
Baby #6 is thumping and moving. I'm nearly 18 weeks into this pregnancy already and so in love with this new little miracle.
We find out boy or girl in 9 days!
Super excited! So thankful!
Baby #6 is thumping and moving. I'm nearly 18 weeks into this pregnancy already and so in love with this new little miracle.
We find out boy or girl in 9 days!
Super excited! So thankful!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Being Thankful To Him
As I look back, it has been several years that God has been teaching my heart the lesson of giving thanks. The past 4 years, though, He has especially stepped in and worked on my heart in serious ways in this area. As He revealed sin and struggle and convicted my soul....as I turned to Him for help...the answer so many times was to start with an attitude of thankfulness.
He has used people, books, blogs and most importantly His Word to show me time and time again that my ungrateful approach to things was robbing me of JOY.
When I got pregnant with the twins, I struggled deeply. I was so conflicted between knowing that I was blessed and that another child was a privilege but I was also buying into the lies that this additional child was a burden that I hadn't signed up for. It wasn't part of my plan and I struggled with surrendering and just allowing God to use me for His plan.
I had reasons. I was allowing ideas to turn into discontentment. I wanted more space and more money and more comfort and more luxury and I wanted things to be about me. I was quick to see where things were not what I had envisioned and linger there, allowing the void to bring discouragement and worry and doubt.
At some point along the way, though, God drew me out of this. He brought me to a point...to a choice. I could continue to be miserable. Or I could look at the things He was doing. The things He had already done. And I could CHOOSE to THANK Him. As I said before, this has been a process and He has grown me so much. A few years ago, my struggles with discontentment were regular and I'd find myself drowning in them at times. Now, THANKS BE TO HIM, that He has shown me the WAY of thanksgiving and the struggles are few and far between.
And so, He has been teaching me to be thankful regularly. I want to write more often. I want to record our days. I want to have something to look back to. But most of all, I want to remember the many gifts He's given. I want to remember all I have to be thankful for.
Ann Voskamp writes here: www.aholyexperience.com and also authored the book One Thousand Gifts. She encourages and challenges to write down our gifts. Be thankful for them outloud on paper. And so begins my thankfulness journal: http://thebrownsgivehimthanks.blogspot.com/
He has used people, books, blogs and most importantly His Word to show me time and time again that my ungrateful approach to things was robbing me of JOY.
When I got pregnant with the twins, I struggled deeply. I was so conflicted between knowing that I was blessed and that another child was a privilege but I was also buying into the lies that this additional child was a burden that I hadn't signed up for. It wasn't part of my plan and I struggled with surrendering and just allowing God to use me for His plan.
I had reasons. I was allowing ideas to turn into discontentment. I wanted more space and more money and more comfort and more luxury and I wanted things to be about me. I was quick to see where things were not what I had envisioned and linger there, allowing the void to bring discouragement and worry and doubt.
At some point along the way, though, God drew me out of this. He brought me to a point...to a choice. I could continue to be miserable. Or I could look at the things He was doing. The things He had already done. And I could CHOOSE to THANK Him. As I said before, this has been a process and He has grown me so much. A few years ago, my struggles with discontentment were regular and I'd find myself drowning in them at times. Now, THANKS BE TO HIM, that He has shown me the WAY of thanksgiving and the struggles are few and far between.
And so, He has been teaching me to be thankful regularly. I want to write more often. I want to record our days. I want to have something to look back to. But most of all, I want to remember the many gifts He's given. I want to remember all I have to be thankful for.
Ann Voskamp writes here: www.aholyexperience.com and also authored the book One Thousand Gifts. She encourages and challenges to write down our gifts. Be thankful for them outloud on paper. And so begins my thankfulness journal: http://thebrownsgivehimthanks.blogspot.com/
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. [Psalm 121:1b-2]
Blessed are those who keep His testimonies,
Who seek Him with the whole heart!
The also do no iniquity;
They walk in His ways.
You have commanded us
To keep your precepts diligently.
[Psalm 119:2-4]
I sit. I read. I pray. I type. I pray. I delete. I pray. I type some more. I process.
Sometimes my days blend together. Each day repeats the day before. Other days I blink and a month has disappeared. Babies grow. Children learn. Messes are cleaned. The clean gets messy. Days are mixed with the practicality of living; of feeding, washing, growing, exploring, instructing, disciplining, learning, seeking and the call to be still. I'm called to seek Him with my whole heart. I'm called to know that He is God.
People say I'm super mom. People look at me and the babes He's entrusted to my care; they look with wonder and awe. And I wonder back just how I can give all the glory to Him. The good they see is not me. There is still so much I struggle in my flesh. {but as He who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, because it is written, "Be holy, for I am holy."}[1 Peter 1:15-16] Still so far away. He still has so much work to do on me.
He is working on me.
He is asking questions of my actions. And questions of my heart.
I can hide from others, but not from Him.
And the fact is, that my actions reveal my heart. And so, as I look at the things that I do, say, wear, buy, invest in, spend time on, take pleasure in.....I must evaluate my heart.
And I seek and plead and ask God to show me what it looks like. And when the answer returns that it may....no that it WILL look differently for different people, I am left more confused than before.
But He is my help. He is MY HELP. He made heaven and earth....and He is my help.
So when I wake up, I will thank Him. When I dress, I will ask Him to show me HIS ways. He will help me. As I care for my littles, I will run to Him for help.
And I will pray that as I love Him and as He helps me, that others will see HIM and not me.
Blessed are those who keep His testimonies,
Who seek Him with the whole heart!
The also do no iniquity;
They walk in His ways.
You have commanded us
To keep your precepts diligently.
[Psalm 119:2-4]
I sit. I read. I pray. I type. I pray. I delete. I pray. I type some more. I process.
Sometimes my days blend together. Each day repeats the day before. Other days I blink and a month has disappeared. Babies grow. Children learn. Messes are cleaned. The clean gets messy. Days are mixed with the practicality of living; of feeding, washing, growing, exploring, instructing, disciplining, learning, seeking and the call to be still. I'm called to seek Him with my whole heart. I'm called to know that He is God.
People say I'm super mom. People look at me and the babes He's entrusted to my care; they look with wonder and awe. And I wonder back just how I can give all the glory to Him. The good they see is not me. There is still so much I struggle in my flesh. {but as He who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, because it is written, "Be holy, for I am holy."}[1 Peter 1:15-16] Still so far away. He still has so much work to do on me.
He is working on me.
He is asking questions of my actions. And questions of my heart.
I can hide from others, but not from Him.
And the fact is, that my actions reveal my heart. And so, as I look at the things that I do, say, wear, buy, invest in, spend time on, take pleasure in.....I must evaluate my heart.
And I seek and plead and ask God to show me what it looks like. And when the answer returns that it may....no that it WILL look differently for different people, I am left more confused than before.
But He is my help. He is MY HELP. He made heaven and earth....and He is my help.
So when I wake up, I will thank Him. When I dress, I will ask Him to show me HIS ways. He will help me. As I care for my littles, I will run to Him for help.
And I will pray that as I love Him and as He helps me, that others will see HIM and not me.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
The Birth Story of Brinley Elizabeth
My pregnancy with Brinley went smoothly and similarly to my first three pregnancies. I felt good for most of the pregnancy, but knew that she was going to be a healthy-sized baby and was hopeful that she’d be early like my other babies. My singleton pregnancies seem to follow a trend of my uterus measuring “big” at the end of pregnancy, my doctor ordering a growth ultrasound in the third trimester where the baby measures on the bigger side, and my doctor making the decision to strip my membranes (if I want her to) during my 37 weeks appointment. With Kenzie, this appointment landed at 37 weeks 6 days. My water broke shortly after my appointment and I had her the next day at 2:32pm. With Ryken, this appointment landed at 37 weeks 3 days and I went into labor that evening and had him the next morning at 7:32am.
As my pregnancy with Brinley unfolded, it followed the pattern I’d come to expect. At 32 weeks, I was measuring correctly. By 34.5 weeks I was measuring closer to 37 weeks and my doctor ordered the growth ultrasound. I went for the ultrasound a week later, when I was 35 weeks 4 days pregnant with Bri and she was estimated to be 7lbs 5oz. The other thing causing me to measure on the large side was excessive amounts of amniotic fluid. The fluid surrounding Brinley was about twice the “normal” amount of fluid.
Between Brinley’s size and the extra fluid, I was getting very uncomfortable and taking care of the house and kids was getting harder. Thankfully, I was still sleeping well at night and since I was carrying Brinley high, I only was waking up once in the night to use the bathroom at the most…sometimes I was able to sleep through without using the bathroom.
By my 36 week (I was 36 weeks 5 days) appointment which was on Thursday March 8th, my doctor had decided that she wanted to start non-stress tests twice a week starting the next week. She wanted me to come on Mondays and Thursdays. I made my appointment for Monday, March 12th. She told me that if I wanted her to strip my membranes that day, she would do that for me, and that she would like to try to get things going.
Over the weekend, we had to decide if I would have my doctor strip my membranes. I desperately WANTED Brinley OUT, but there were some things that made the decision somewhat hard. The biggest thing was Chip’s work schedule. On Monday and Tuesday, March 12th and 13th most of the managers and shift leads that work with Chip were out of town. I also had a dinner planned with two of my friends on the evening of March 12th. I didn’t want to miss it : ) But I really wanted her out. Chip decided that work would be ok without him on Monday and Tuesday if I were to go into labor and I decided that I would just have the doctor go ahead and strip me and we’d see what happened. I was trying not to get my hopes up too much and remember that “each pregnancy/labor/delivery can be different”.
Monday, March 12th
8:30am Chip left for work and I got ready for my appointment.
10:15am His mom came over to watch the kids and my Aunt Ruth who played the part of my “doula” came over to take me to my appointment.
11:00am We got to my appointment and waited for awhile until the machine was available for the non-stress test. I got hooked up and they monitored Brinley for about 20 minutes. She looked great. We moved into an exam room and my doctor checked me. My cervix was harder to reach than previous weeks and I was still only around 30% effaced and 2-3cm dilated. My doctor stripped my membranes and said she’d come back in around 10 minutes to do them one more time, which she did.
12:30pm We left the office and my aunt dropped me off at home. I asked my mother-in-law if she would come back over later that night when I got home from dinner so that Chip and I could go for a walk. I felt no different than before the appointment and was preparing myself mentally that I’d probably still be pregnant and would be going to my next appointment that Thursday. I was excited that I had the dinner plans with friends because it gave me something exciting to look forward to since nothing seemed to be happening baby-wise.
Around late afternoon, I had a few very sporadic, spread out contractions which weren’t really any different than other contractions I’d been having. I sent text messages to my friends that dinner was still on, telling one of them that it would be perfect if we could go out to dinner and then I could go into labor after that, but I wasn’t planning on it.
6:30pm I called my mom on the way to dinner. I told her that I’d had some contractions but nothing significant and we talked about how I had been so discouraged the whole day that I had my membranes stripped with Ryken too, thinking nothing would happen. Remembering that gave me a little bit of hope that something may still happen, but I was still trying to mentally prepare myself to be pregnant for awhile longer.
6:45pm I got to Pei Wei and was walking from my car to the restaurant and had a contraction that was a little bit stronger and lasted a little bit longer, but still nothing that made me very excited. At this point, I must have started having contractions every 15-20 minutes that were getting much more noticeable. I remember having one while I was outside sitting on a bench talking to my friend Jamie waiting for Melissa to get there. I had 2 more while we waited in the long line. I had another one or two while we ate and another one when we walked down to Paradise Bakery to get cookies. By that point, I was a little bit more excited, especially since Chip’s mom was coming so we could go for a walk. I was starting to get hopeful that the walk might really get things going.
8:50pm I got home and Chip’s mom was there, so we headed out on a walk around the neighborhood. Almost right away, the contractions started coming regularly…around every 3 minutes. They were lasting around 35-45 seconds. As we walked further some of them got stronger and lasted longer, others stayed shorter. They were anywhere from 2 minutes apart lasting a full minute to 4 minutes apart lasting 40 seconds. We had been walking for around 15-20 minutes and decided to head back so I could use the bathroom. I also wanted to rest for awhile to see if the contractions stayed consistent or went away.
9:12pm On our way back, I called my mom and told her that things were starting to look pretty promising for that night. She decided she’d still wait until morning to drive up.
9:25pm We got back from our walk and I went to the bathroom and was having some bloody show.
9:30pm I called my aunt to tell her what was going on. I decided I’d rest for awhile and then go for another walk and I would call her if/when we decided to go to the hospital based on how things were going. Chip decided to take a shower and was updating his MP3 player. As I sat around, contractions continued to come, although a little bit further apart, maybe every 5-6 minutes. Whenever I was up, they were stronger and closer, but when I sat down they stayed strong enough that I knew things were still happening.
9:40pm I called my sister-in-law, Liz, to let her know what was going on. Chip’s dad dropped some stuff off for Chip’s mom since it was looking like she’d be staying over night with the kids and we finished packing up for the hospital.
10:30pm We decided that we’d put our bags in the car and take another walk. With my labor with Ryken and my labor with the twins, I had to walk A LOT at the hospital. I wanted to walk outside in the nice weather as long as possible.
We put everything in the car and started out on our second walk. We got about 50ft from our condo complex when I told Chip we better turn around and just go to the hospital. The contractions were getting significantly stronger and I didn’t want to get into the neighborhood and not be able to walk back.
10:42pm I called Aunt Ruth to tell her we were in the car headed to the hospital and that she could come whenever she wanted to. I got to labor and delivery and checked in.
11:01pm I sent my aunt a text telling her which triage room I was in so she’d know where to find us. The nurse came in and got all of my information and got me hooked up to monitors and my aunt got there.
11:28pm I text my mom to tell her that I was definitely staying. I was 5-6cm dilated and around 60% effaced.
I was moved to a labor and delivery room before midnight. We got my laptop set up and got some music going. I was still having a lot of good easy time between contractions. I talked with the nurses and asked to get a Hep-Lock in my arm so that if I ended up needing an IV at any point I’d be ready for it. I didn’t want an IV or fluids if I didn’t need it, and really didn’t want to have the restrictions of dragging around an IV pole, but I liked the idea of them having quick access if needed.
I spent the next 2 hours getting the Hep-Lock put in place and laboring.
The Hep-Lock ended up being a bit of an ordeal because my nurse hit the
vein wall on her first attempt and was afraid to try again so she
called in another nurse. That nurse tried to put it in at a less than
ideal spot because “her spot” had been the one the first nurse tried and
was unsuccessful at. So the second attempt in the not as good spot
didn’t work either. She finally got it on the third try. Thankfully,
needles don’t bother me. But they do bother Chip, so he kept leaving and
coming in to see if they were done and he’d have to leave again. The
contractions were getting fairly intense during those two hours, but I
still had time in between where I felt great. I’d walk around and talk
and joke and just wait for the next contraction and then when a
contraction would start I would lean up against the wall or lean over on
the bed with my face in a pillow and breath through it. During these
earlier contractions, I’d breath slow and long and I wanted someone
rubbing my back quickly. As they got worse later on, I switched to
short, quick, rhythmic breathing but wanted Chip and my aunt to push on
my back or rub me slowly instead of quickly.
1:45am my nurse checked me again. At that point I was at least 7cm dilated, maybe even close to 8cm (according to her). We talked and decided that she’d let my doctor know. Typically, they call the doctor at 8-9cm, but my nurse was concerned that I’d go quite quickly after my water broke and since we didn’t know when it would break, she wanted to at least give my doctor fair warning.
1:55am I updated FB: If you're up at 2am and on Facebook, then you are lucky enough to know that I am a good 7cm dilated (almost 8cm) at the hospital and getting close to meeting my sweet baby girl!! : ) Things are going great but prayers are appreciated!! : )
I was still feeling good between contractions but it was at this point that the contractions were getting really intense. I still had at least a minute or two of pain-free resting time between them though. I also sent a text to my mom at 1:58am giving her an update.
After that my nurse came back in and said that my doctor told her to call back when I was 8-9cm or when my water broke, but my nurse said she thought we’d probably see her soon. By around 2:25ish my doctor showed up. She checked me and said I was 7cm (not close to 8 according to her) and my water was “bulging”. We talked about our options at that point. I could continue to labor and see how things went or she could break my water for me. Both my doctor and the nurse told me that if she broke my water, it would get 1,000 times worse, but that they were pretty sure it would be over quickly. If I continued on, they thought it would take longer since I had the extra fluid that was keeping Brinley’s head from really pushing down as fully as they’d like (she was “floating” in the fluid). The other concern my doctor had, was that with large amounts of fluid and a floating baby, there is an increased risk of cord prolapse if your water breaks in a big gush. Cord prolapse happens when the cord comes out with the gush of water and then the baby’s head presses down on the cord cutting off the blood and oxygen flow to the baby. It still wasn’t very likely to happen, but it was more of a possibility than if the baby’s head is firmly against the cervix because in that case (which is normal) there is no way the cord can come out before the head. My doctor liked the idea of breaking my water because she’d be able to control the gush of fluid and Brinley’s head and make sure the cord was not coming out. I was starting to get tired and I liked the idea of my doctor controlling my water breaking.
2:42am My doctor broke my water. There was SO MUCH WATER. It just kept coming and coming. After a lot of it had come out, I decided to get up and use the bathroom and let the nurses put dry bedding on the bed. The contractions were coming closer together and I remember worrying about how I’d make it from the bed to the bathroom in the short time between pain. I made it there and had one or two bad contractions in the bathroom. I decided I wanted to try the birthing ball by the bed and headed over as soon as I had a short break between contractions. I made it to the birthing ball. This is when I remember doing the short shallow breaths. The contractions were so much more intense. I tried to sing along to my music some, but couldn’t. After being on the birthing ball for a few contractions I decided I needed to get back into the bed. The contractions were getting worse with each one and closer and closer together. By the time I got up on the bed, I felt like I couldn’t even move to position myself well because of the pain. It was getting overwhelming. I started to moan through these contractions and as the contraction got worse I’d get louder and possibly more high-pitched (I’m not sure…I just know the pitch and volume changed through them, I’m not sure how) and vocally I’d come back down with the contraction. It was somewhat surreal because I knew I was doing it and I HAD to do it. I almost felt like I had no control over my body or the pain. I was experiencing it and couldn’t do anything to overcome it.
I remember thinking a few things during this time. I remember telling Chip that if I thought I could move that I thought it would feel good to be in the water, but I was thinking that I knew there was no way I’d be able to go anywhere. I was barely able to move on the bed. I also said something about that it better be transition (which I had heard was the most horrible part). I was thinking as I said it that if it wasn’t transition that I had no idea how I would survive. My aunt was telling me to relax and I was feeling frustrated because there was no way I could relax. Trying to overcome the pain with the mental will-power of “trying” to relax was a completely impossible task at that point. Chip and my aunt would tell me that the contraction was ending but I wouldn’t feel any relief from the pain…the next one would already be starting. I remember asking if one was almost over and them saying yes and feeling no relief and that was when I started to worry and wondered how I’d ever keep going. At some point during the end I asked for a wet washcloth for my head.
The nurse told me to tell her if anything changed with contraction and if I felt any urge to push. I was having trouble staying connected enough through the pain to be able to tell if anything was different. I told her that I thought maybe I was feeling some urge to push on one contraction. She said to see if it happened again the next contraction and I didn’t feel it on the next one which confused me and frustrated me (in my mind…I didn’t say or do anything to show frustration). Then the next one I thought maybe I felt it again. She checked me and said I just had one little lip to go and was about ready to push. She let my doctor know who had been waiting out in the hall. During those next few contractions I know my body pushed some without me trying and I was then completely dilated.
My doctor came in and Brinley was ready to come out. My doctor had no time to get dressed for delivery. In fact, she only had one glove on as she delivered Brinley’s head. They told me to pull my legs back, which I couldn’t do through the pain. My aunt helped with one leg and the nurse with the other and they told me to push as hard as I could to get her shoulders out. I already felt like I was pushing as hard as I could, but I needed her out so I pushed more, which, like I said, didn’t seem possible.
3:35am Out she came, just 53 minutes after my doctor broke my water. They placed her on me and while I was excited to see her, my honest first reaction was just relief from the pain. I was just so glad to be done that I almost didn’t care about her (this was only for the first 20 seconds or so). They let me have her for a few minutes and my aunt cut her cord (Chip has never wanted to…it completely grosses him out). It was interesting and a little bit scary to see that her cord had a true knot in it. Thankfully it had never gotten too tight or caused any problems.
They took her over to the warmer to check her out while my doctor and I
waited for the placenta. Waiting for the placenta was much more
uncomfortable than I realized it was going to be.
Then they worked on cleaning her up and
weighing and measuring her. She weighed in at 8lbs 0.4oz (we just say
8lbs) and 20 inches long.
4:00am I had her back and was nursing her. She latched on great right away and nursed for 40 minutes straight. By around 6am they moved us to a recovery room since they had more people needing the labor rooms.
Once we were in the recovery room, Chip held Bri for a few minutes but then decided to sleep for awhile. I just admired my little Bri. I was too excited to sleep.
Chip left around 8:30am to go home and get the kids so they could come
meet their sister. I was feeling GREAT and was able to take a shower,
get dressed and blow dry and straighten my hair....just 6 hours after
having her : ) The kids got there a little after 10 and LOVED meeting
their sister. We got a GREAT first family photo, too!
Immediately after having her, I decided I would NEVER EVER do THAT ever again. I thought at the time it was one of the dumbest things I've ever done (a natural birth...no epidural). Of course now, 6 weeks later, my memory is already blurred and the horrific pain is far enough behind me and I can now say that I'm sure I'll probably do it again.
As my pregnancy with Brinley unfolded, it followed the pattern I’d come to expect. At 32 weeks, I was measuring correctly. By 34.5 weeks I was measuring closer to 37 weeks and my doctor ordered the growth ultrasound. I went for the ultrasound a week later, when I was 35 weeks 4 days pregnant with Bri and she was estimated to be 7lbs 5oz. The other thing causing me to measure on the large side was excessive amounts of amniotic fluid. The fluid surrounding Brinley was about twice the “normal” amount of fluid.
Between Brinley’s size and the extra fluid, I was getting very uncomfortable and taking care of the house and kids was getting harder. Thankfully, I was still sleeping well at night and since I was carrying Brinley high, I only was waking up once in the night to use the bathroom at the most…sometimes I was able to sleep through without using the bathroom.
By my 36 week (I was 36 weeks 5 days) appointment which was on Thursday March 8th, my doctor had decided that she wanted to start non-stress tests twice a week starting the next week. She wanted me to come on Mondays and Thursdays. I made my appointment for Monday, March 12th. She told me that if I wanted her to strip my membranes that day, she would do that for me, and that she would like to try to get things going.
Over the weekend, we had to decide if I would have my doctor strip my membranes. I desperately WANTED Brinley OUT, but there were some things that made the decision somewhat hard. The biggest thing was Chip’s work schedule. On Monday and Tuesday, March 12th and 13th most of the managers and shift leads that work with Chip were out of town. I also had a dinner planned with two of my friends on the evening of March 12th. I didn’t want to miss it : ) But I really wanted her out. Chip decided that work would be ok without him on Monday and Tuesday if I were to go into labor and I decided that I would just have the doctor go ahead and strip me and we’d see what happened. I was trying not to get my hopes up too much and remember that “each pregnancy/labor/delivery can be different”.
 | ||||||
| Here I am on Saturday, March 10th...about 48 hours before going into labor. |
Monday, March 12th
8:30am Chip left for work and I got ready for my appointment.
10:15am His mom came over to watch the kids and my Aunt Ruth who played the part of my “doula” came over to take me to my appointment.
11:00am We got to my appointment and waited for awhile until the machine was available for the non-stress test. I got hooked up and they monitored Brinley for about 20 minutes. She looked great. We moved into an exam room and my doctor checked me. My cervix was harder to reach than previous weeks and I was still only around 30% effaced and 2-3cm dilated. My doctor stripped my membranes and said she’d come back in around 10 minutes to do them one more time, which she did.
12:30pm We left the office and my aunt dropped me off at home. I asked my mother-in-law if she would come back over later that night when I got home from dinner so that Chip and I could go for a walk. I felt no different than before the appointment and was preparing myself mentally that I’d probably still be pregnant and would be going to my next appointment that Thursday. I was excited that I had the dinner plans with friends because it gave me something exciting to look forward to since nothing seemed to be happening baby-wise.
Around late afternoon, I had a few very sporadic, spread out contractions which weren’t really any different than other contractions I’d been having. I sent text messages to my friends that dinner was still on, telling one of them that it would be perfect if we could go out to dinner and then I could go into labor after that, but I wasn’t planning on it.
6:30pm I called my mom on the way to dinner. I told her that I’d had some contractions but nothing significant and we talked about how I had been so discouraged the whole day that I had my membranes stripped with Ryken too, thinking nothing would happen. Remembering that gave me a little bit of hope that something may still happen, but I was still trying to mentally prepare myself to be pregnant for awhile longer.
6:45pm I got to Pei Wei and was walking from my car to the restaurant and had a contraction that was a little bit stronger and lasted a little bit longer, but still nothing that made me very excited. At this point, I must have started having contractions every 15-20 minutes that were getting much more noticeable. I remember having one while I was outside sitting on a bench talking to my friend Jamie waiting for Melissa to get there. I had 2 more while we waited in the long line. I had another one or two while we ate and another one when we walked down to Paradise Bakery to get cookies. By that point, I was a little bit more excited, especially since Chip’s mom was coming so we could go for a walk. I was starting to get hopeful that the walk might really get things going.
8:50pm I got home and Chip’s mom was there, so we headed out on a walk around the neighborhood. Almost right away, the contractions started coming regularly…around every 3 minutes. They were lasting around 35-45 seconds. As we walked further some of them got stronger and lasted longer, others stayed shorter. They were anywhere from 2 minutes apart lasting a full minute to 4 minutes apart lasting 40 seconds. We had been walking for around 15-20 minutes and decided to head back so I could use the bathroom. I also wanted to rest for awhile to see if the contractions stayed consistent or went away.
9:12pm On our way back, I called my mom and told her that things were starting to look pretty promising for that night. She decided she’d still wait until morning to drive up.
9:25pm We got back from our walk and I went to the bathroom and was having some bloody show.
9:30pm I called my aunt to tell her what was going on. I decided I’d rest for awhile and then go for another walk and I would call her if/when we decided to go to the hospital based on how things were going. Chip decided to take a shower and was updating his MP3 player. As I sat around, contractions continued to come, although a little bit further apart, maybe every 5-6 minutes. Whenever I was up, they were stronger and closer, but when I sat down they stayed strong enough that I knew things were still happening.
9:40pm I called my sister-in-law, Liz, to let her know what was going on. Chip’s dad dropped some stuff off for Chip’s mom since it was looking like she’d be staying over night with the kids and we finished packing up for the hospital.
10:30pm We decided that we’d put our bags in the car and take another walk. With my labor with Ryken and my labor with the twins, I had to walk A LOT at the hospital. I wanted to walk outside in the nice weather as long as possible.
We put everything in the car and started out on our second walk. We got about 50ft from our condo complex when I told Chip we better turn around and just go to the hospital. The contractions were getting significantly stronger and I didn’t want to get into the neighborhood and not be able to walk back.
10:42pm I called Aunt Ruth to tell her we were in the car headed to the hospital and that she could come whenever she wanted to. I got to labor and delivery and checked in.
11:01pm I sent my aunt a text telling her which triage room I was in so she’d know where to find us. The nurse came in and got all of my information and got me hooked up to monitors and my aunt got there.
11:28pm I text my mom to tell her that I was definitely staying. I was 5-6cm dilated and around 60% effaced.
I was moved to a labor and delivery room before midnight. We got my laptop set up and got some music going. I was still having a lot of good easy time between contractions. I talked with the nurses and asked to get a Hep-Lock in my arm so that if I ended up needing an IV at any point I’d be ready for it. I didn’t want an IV or fluids if I didn’t need it, and really didn’t want to have the restrictions of dragging around an IV pole, but I liked the idea of them having quick access if needed.
 |
| Apparently at this point the pain, while unpleasant, was still something I could work through easily. |
 |
| Having fun between contractions. |
 |
| Feeling good. |
1:45am my nurse checked me again. At that point I was at least 7cm dilated, maybe even close to 8cm (according to her). We talked and decided that she’d let my doctor know. Typically, they call the doctor at 8-9cm, but my nurse was concerned that I’d go quite quickly after my water broke and since we didn’t know when it would break, she wanted to at least give my doctor fair warning.
1:55am I updated FB: If you're up at 2am and on Facebook, then you are lucky enough to know that I am a good 7cm dilated (almost 8cm) at the hospital and getting close to meeting my sweet baby girl!! : ) Things are going great but prayers are appreciated!! : )
I was still feeling good between contractions but it was at this point that the contractions were getting really intense. I still had at least a minute or two of pain-free resting time between them though. I also sent a text to my mom at 1:58am giving her an update.
 |
| Still smiling during pain-free times : ) |
 |
| Having to work harder through the pain. |
 | ||
| Just workin' it out. |
After that my nurse came back in and said that my doctor told her to call back when I was 8-9cm or when my water broke, but my nurse said she thought we’d probably see her soon. By around 2:25ish my doctor showed up. She checked me and said I was 7cm (not close to 8 according to her) and my water was “bulging”. We talked about our options at that point. I could continue to labor and see how things went or she could break my water for me. Both my doctor and the nurse told me that if she broke my water, it would get 1,000 times worse, but that they were pretty sure it would be over quickly. If I continued on, they thought it would take longer since I had the extra fluid that was keeping Brinley’s head from really pushing down as fully as they’d like (she was “floating” in the fluid). The other concern my doctor had, was that with large amounts of fluid and a floating baby, there is an increased risk of cord prolapse if your water breaks in a big gush. Cord prolapse happens when the cord comes out with the gush of water and then the baby’s head presses down on the cord cutting off the blood and oxygen flow to the baby. It still wasn’t very likely to happen, but it was more of a possibility than if the baby’s head is firmly against the cervix because in that case (which is normal) there is no way the cord can come out before the head. My doctor liked the idea of breaking my water because she’d be able to control the gush of fluid and Brinley’s head and make sure the cord was not coming out. I was starting to get tired and I liked the idea of my doctor controlling my water breaking.
2:42am My doctor broke my water. There was SO MUCH WATER. It just kept coming and coming. After a lot of it had come out, I decided to get up and use the bathroom and let the nurses put dry bedding on the bed. The contractions were coming closer together and I remember worrying about how I’d make it from the bed to the bathroom in the short time between pain. I made it there and had one or two bad contractions in the bathroom. I decided I wanted to try the birthing ball by the bed and headed over as soon as I had a short break between contractions. I made it to the birthing ball. This is when I remember doing the short shallow breaths. The contractions were so much more intense. I tried to sing along to my music some, but couldn’t. After being on the birthing ball for a few contractions I decided I needed to get back into the bed. The contractions were getting worse with each one and closer and closer together. By the time I got up on the bed, I felt like I couldn’t even move to position myself well because of the pain. It was getting overwhelming. I started to moan through these contractions and as the contraction got worse I’d get louder and possibly more high-pitched (I’m not sure…I just know the pitch and volume changed through them, I’m not sure how) and vocally I’d come back down with the contraction. It was somewhat surreal because I knew I was doing it and I HAD to do it. I almost felt like I had no control over my body or the pain. I was experiencing it and couldn’t do anything to overcome it.
 | ||
| This picture was taken at 3:08am. Bri was born 27 minutes later. This was when the pain was really starting to take over. |
The nurse told me to tell her if anything changed with contraction and if I felt any urge to push. I was having trouble staying connected enough through the pain to be able to tell if anything was different. I told her that I thought maybe I was feeling some urge to push on one contraction. She said to see if it happened again the next contraction and I didn’t feel it on the next one which confused me and frustrated me (in my mind…I didn’t say or do anything to show frustration). Then the next one I thought maybe I felt it again. She checked me and said I just had one little lip to go and was about ready to push. She let my doctor know who had been waiting out in the hall. During those next few contractions I know my body pushed some without me trying and I was then completely dilated.
My doctor came in and Brinley was ready to come out. My doctor had no time to get dressed for delivery. In fact, she only had one glove on as she delivered Brinley’s head. They told me to pull my legs back, which I couldn’t do through the pain. My aunt helped with one leg and the nurse with the other and they told me to push as hard as I could to get her shoulders out. I already felt like I was pushing as hard as I could, but I needed her out so I pushed more, which, like I said, didn’t seem possible.
3:35am Out she came, just 53 minutes after my doctor broke my water. They placed her on me and while I was excited to see her, my honest first reaction was just relief from the pain. I was just so glad to be done that I almost didn’t care about her (this was only for the first 20 seconds or so). They let me have her for a few minutes and my aunt cut her cord (Chip has never wanted to…it completely grosses him out). It was interesting and a little bit scary to see that her cord had a true knot in it. Thankfully it had never gotten too tight or caused any problems.
 |
| She's out. And gooey! |
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| SO happy it's over. I look a little crazy. |
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| Crazy knot in her cord. |
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| Admiring my goo-ball that I worked so hard for. ♥ |
 |
| Getting her covered up. |
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| Telling her to cry. (Then my doctor reminded me she was ok since her cord wasn't cut yet) |
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| Good little lungs. |
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| I love that Chip was with her across the room ♥ |
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| Checking her out. |
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| More goober-baby |
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| Chubby cheeks. |
As soon as the
placenta was delivered they brought her back to me and we got a picture with my doctor.
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| I love love love my doctor. |
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| So upset. |
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| Thank you for coming out early, Bri. |
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| Teeny Toes. |
Once we were in the recovery room, Chip held Bri for a few minutes but then decided to sleep for awhile. I just admired my little Bri. I was too excited to sleep.
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| 6:25am. Almost 3 hours old with her Daddy. |
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| I was SO happy to have her OUT of my belly and IN my arms! |
 | |
| All 7 of us! : ) Casey, Kenzie, Brinely, Me, Emery, Chip, Ryken |
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
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