A Birthing Story

How God Makes Beautiful Things out of Dust…

I had been waiting for this for weeks. Given the promise by my then OB-Gyn that I could go into labor any day by 37 weeks, I had literally planned on going into labor any day… I planned my schedule around it. When my due date came and went, a reality slowly began to sink in:

I’m not in control of this any more than I’m in control of how the sunrise looks in the morning.

What do I trust?

I had made the switch from a “normal” OB practice and hospital birth to the commitment to a natural childbirth in a birthing center with a midwife. It was a ridiculous amount of God’s favor to make a switch at 38 weeks. I was panicking a little when I was basically fired from my OB for asking for my records, but so be it. It was in God’s hands now.

What do I trust?

I had watched every documentary on natural childbirth that I could get my hands on. I had done ridiculous amounts of research. But nothing actually prepares you for the birth experience. I knew Hubs was super-supportive, and would be amazing. I was with him, so I felt invincible.

What do I trust?

Finally, at 41 weeks I started having serious contractions. I started timing them, and they went from every hour to every 20 minutes in a few hours. Called the midwife, and she wanted them at 10 minutes before we came in. I learned about having pain that you can’t talk your way through, that random bleeding, and feeling like you’re losing control is a good thing. I was losing control just like I was supposed to.

We started being attacked; Hubs and I were across town from each other. Money was super tight, I was at the grocery store because I knew we had to have food for the next few days while we were holed up at home. The debit card wouldn’t work. The paypal wouldn’t work. Hubs couldn’t get what he needed done at work; I’m stranded, in labor, at Walmart. We made it home. I put in my favorite CD of all of our favorite love songs as we drove to the birthing center. We prayed. We laughed. He would rub my hand and pray during contractions.

I saw a strength in my husband that I have never seen before in anyone. He never once complained about how tired he was – and I knew he was exhausted. When I got to 5cm, they allowed me to get into the tub. He rubbed my back; he ran 3 miles back and forth to the kitchen to get water and tea. He cooled my forehead with a cold washcloth and told me I was beautiful.

I remember telling him that I loved him over and over. I remember one specific conversation in the tub:

Me: Hey baby, will you do me a huge favor?

Hubs: Of course, my love! What can I do for you?

Me: Will you marry me?

Hubs: Heck yeah!! We should have a baby.

Me: We totally should!!

This was a conversation we’ve had no fewer than a million times over the last several months. It brought more than a chuckle to the midwives whom were also exhausted. But that day it seemed so Real. We were about to physically view the extension of our love. A combination of the two of us that we had created.

It was perfect.

They figured out that while J’s body was straight on, his little head was turned sideways, and it was putting pressure on his little arteries every time I pushed. I had to get out of the tub, and at this point, after I had been pushing for an hour, moving and doing anything was a little unreasonable, let alone hiking out of the tub. My amazing husband all but lifted me out of the tub on his own, and all but carried me to the bed. It was only a step away, but it felt like a huge ordeal. I immediately felt the weight of what the water was supporting, and it became much harder.

Somehow, Hubs managed to be in charge of one of my legs and getting me sweet tea at the same time. He was amazing. Not long after I had been pushing on the bed, he heard a conversation I didn’t hear: they were thinking about transporting me. I didn’t hear the conversation, but I did hear my husband, praying in tongues over me as I began to push again. Suddenly, the little guy’s head shifted, and my body took over pushing. Hubs said later that he could see my entire stomachand I was able to push my son into the world a few minutes later.

Just before 3 am that Saturday morning, our lives changed forever. He was perfect. Poor little head was a bit bruised where my body had pushed him through an opening he wasn’t wanting to go through, but he was perfect.

As the midwives began to take care of me, stitching me up nicely and tending to my son who was already sleeping happily in a blankie, Hubs and I began to sing our favorite song together:

The Lord is my light and salvation, whom shall I fear? Whom shall I be afraid?

The Lord is my light and salvation, whom shall I fear? Whom shall I be afraid?

I will wait for you.

I will remain confident in this: I will see the goodness of the Lord.

This wasn’t meant to be a super-spiritual post. But if I’ve ever tasted God’s presence before, it tastes like sweet tea in a birthing tub.