Jude's Birth: Pain, Peace, Joy

[part 5: hard work, but not alone]

Not too long after my water broke, Cindy checked heart tones again—and Jude's heart rate was way too slow. I could tell it didn't sound right, and there was definitely a note of concern/disturbance in her voice as she called out, “90s...80s..” Normal is 120-160 beats per minute. It's typical for the heart rate to drop as the baby is squeezed through the pelvis, I found out later, but it should only drop into the 90s-110s. Jude's got down into the 70s.

Nobody freaked out--Susie especially was so calm and controlled--but she told me that he wasn't tolerating that position well and I needed to move. I shifted onto my back, but his heart rate still didn't come back up. They put an oxygen mask on me and really urged me to push harder. Looking back, it is such a miraculous sign of God's mercy that I was not panicked and fearful at that point. But I wasn't. The pain was unbearable, but I wasn't scared about whether Jude was okay--I had such peace.

It felt like I pushed forever; I don't know how long it really was. Then finally, at 11:58 AM, he was born! Susie placed him in my arms, and we waited for him to pink up. She had warned me that it sometimes takes longer with waterbirths, and it really did. He not only didn't cry; he didn't move at all. His eyes were closed and he was completely still. And I didn't really notice at the time, but looking at the pictures, he was just absolutely gray. They put an oxygen mask on him and worked to get him breathing while I held him. And again, I did not feel worried or scared—I felt such inexplicable peace.

After just a few moments he started breathing, and cried, and I just wept. I experienced that joy, that love—Thank You, Jesus! Steve held me close and rejoiced over our beautiful son, expressed how proud he was of me. Through tears, I announced that his name was Jude and briefly told why. I was just overcome by the faithfulness of God.

It was SO great to be in our own home, to curl up in our own bed...I underestimated how nice that would be. My parents didn't come until the next day, so we were on our own that first night. Steve was better than any nurse :) The way he cared for me so tenderly...having his babies makes me fall in love with him all over again.

So...that's the story of Jude's birth. If you made it this far--thanks for reading. I guess you know by now I can't tell a short story :) An amazing display of God's mercy and grace...more answers to prayer than I can count. An occasion for PRAISE, to be sure. God has been so good, so faithful to me.

the entire series:
prelude
a doula provided
waiting
finally, labor begins
hard work, but not alone
pain, peace, joy

Jude's Birth: Hard Work, But Not Alone

[part 4: finally, labor begins]

Unlike Elijah's birth, this time my contractions never were super close together--in fact, Susie was encouraging me to go for a walk to get them going more frequently. I paced through the house a bit, but mostly I just wanted to be leaning over. And though the contractions weren't coming fast, they were long, and strong. But WOW--having a break between them made all the difference in the world! I was so much more able to cope!

Then between 10:30-11, Susie told me they had another client in labor. After some discussion, it was like my body decided, “You better get serious or you're going to lose your midwife!” I said I wanted to get in the tub, NOW. And the water felt SOOOO good—I wished I had gotten in sooner! I'd been afraid to get in too early because I had heard that if you do, it could actually slow things down—and I guess since my contractions weren't super close together, I was extra cautious about stalling labor. Anyway, I leaned over the side of the tub and just LOVED how good it felt.

Then, the very first contraction I had in the water, I found myself involuntarily pushing! I think everyone was surprised when the contraction ended and I said, “Um, I'm feeling pushy. Those changes in my voice as I moaned through that contraction? That was me bearing down.”

The next thing I knew, they were telling me that the water was too hot and I needed to get out. But there was NO WAY I was getting out of that glorious water. I sort of shifted so my belly was partially out of the water, and ignored them...I couldn't stand the thought of getting out. Steve added cold water and eventually they stopped bugging me :)

I was feeling more and more pushy, and more anxious about the pain. During one contraction, Dee read the lyrics of “Begone, Unbelief”--I could hardly hear or understand her over my own groans, but still it was a comfort. And my noises were *much* more controlled this time; no screaming hysterically like I'd done the last time.

It felt best to me to be on my knees, leaning over the side of the tub. Soon my water broke, and the pain got really intense. Plus my legs kept cramping, which was so horrible! But the best part was that I never felt alone. The pain was still scary, but I felt so much more supported. I'd grip Steve's and Dee's hands. I kept needing to make eye contact with someone—usually Dee or Susie—to avoid losing it. Toward the end, Steve was praying continually, right close to my ear. His calm, low, steady voice was so comforting and helped keep me grounded.

[part 6: pain, peace, joy]

Jude's Birth: Finally, Labor Begins

[part 3: waiting]

Every time I woke up during the night of October 20-21 and was not in labor, I fretted about what was going to happen at my prenatal the next day. I was full of fear, not faith.

Then I woke up around 4:00 and felt...*different.* No contractions yet, but Jude had definitely dropped. I went to the bathroom and just knew in my gut—this was it.

My first contraction came a few minutes later. Steve and I got up around 4:45; we showered and ate, and Steve started setting up the birth pool. I'm sure it sounds like this was all premature, since I had had only two contractions and they weren't anywhere near needing to be timed...but I just had this feeling that this was the day, and I didn't know how quickly things might move. Since my midwife and doula were both an hour or more away, I was anxious for them to be here. I called them around 5:30. Then I texted and emailed several friends who had promised to pray for me during labor, and we called our parents to let them know things were starting. I know I was carried by those prayers!

My doula, Dee, arrived around 7, followed shortly by my midwife, Susie. Then I had to deal with the childcare drama a little more. Making plans for where Elijah would go during the birth (I did not want him around, for his sake and mine) had turned into a giant, crazy mess; the arrangements were literally changing daily. As many as six different people were on call to pick him up depending on when I went into labor.

When I called my friend who was up for Thursday (whom I had only just arranged the day before!), I found out that she wouldn't be able to keep him past early afternoon. So in between contractions, I was making a list of people for her to call to find someone to pass him off to! I was a little stressed and felt terrible for Elijah, but when she came around 9:00, Elijah was excited to see his friends and happily got in the car. Huge relief. Now I could really concentrate on laboring.

Dee was amazing. She knew just what to say and do to help me through a contraction. She was full of encouragement, saying I was handling it beautifully, doing everything right. And I did feel much more confident and in control this time, much more able to relax. Dee would rub my back, pray for me, read Scripture, let me lean over her shoulders...so helpful. And as skilled as she was, she didn't crowd Steve out. Once he wasn't busy with the pool, she encouraged him to jump in and helped him know what to do.

My playlist of songs about not fearing, trusting the Lord, His nearness, etc., was hugely beneficial. It gave me something to think about besides the pain, helped me preach truth to myself. At one point early on, I was laboring on an exercise ball, leaning over a pile of pillows on the bed, and as I listened to the lyrics of one of the songs, I started to weep. Dee asked what was wrong, and I said that I was just blown away by how faithless and full of fear I had been, and how merciful God was. I felt broken, repentant, amazed by His grace and kindness in spite of me.

[part 5: hard work, but not alone]

Jude's Birth: Waiting

[part 2: a doula provided]

So I had a doula. I did lots of reading about natural childbirth and worked through a wonderful book on fear. I made a playlist of songs about not being afraid, trusting the Lord, His being with me, etc. I bought birth supplies and washed diapers and folded onesies. I enlisted an army of trusted friends to pray for me in the weeks leading up to Jude's birth and while I was in labor. All that was left to do was wait.

And wait we did.

I've gotten on my soapbox before about how I hate the idea of of a "due date"--this magic day when baby is "supposed to" arrive and after which he is considered "late." With Elijah, I stubbornly refused to tell people my "exact due date." But the truth is, Elijah was born "early"--at 39 weeks, 2 days. So although we knew it wasn't a guarantee, I think Steve and I both just expected that Jude would come before his "official due date," too.

Well, 39w2d came and went, so we relaxed. I had been wanting a 10/10/10 baby anyway, and now I had a chance! But October 10 passed and I was still pregnant. Next I set my sights on the 15th, thinking it would be fun to give Steve's granny a birthday great-grandbaby. No such luck.

And then my midwife started talking induction.

You see, I had originally estimated the 40-week mark as October 18, but at my first prenatal visit, my midwife changed it to October 11. Once the 11th came and went, the clock was ticking. I was completely content to wait and let the baby come when he decided it was time. But my midwife would be unable (or at least unwilling) to attend a homebirth past 42 weeks. If we reached that point, I would have no choice but to see her backup physician, who would want to schedule a hospital induction immediately. If I wanted to avoid that, it was time to start thinking about "natural" induction methods to get things going and preserve my homebirth plans.

I was distraught. To many of you, it may not sound like a big deal. Some of you may have voluntarily chosen to be induced in a hospital. But for me, that option was terrifying, and the idea of trying less invasive induction methods wasn't much more appealing. I just did not want to mess with the process. I wanted to trust my body and the baby and let labor start naturally, without the use of drugs in a hospital *or* methods at home.

Mercifully, I was not at that point many women reach, where they're miserable beyond belief and all "get this baby OUT of me NOW." I was truly fine with waiting, except that I felt pressured by the circumstances. On top of all this, my carefully laid plans for what to do with Elijah during the birth (I did not want him here!) were crumbling. Actually it went from "crumbling" to "disintegrating" to "blowing up in my face"...I'll spare you the details but it was insane, to say the least.

By October 18 I was officially 41 weeks, though by that point I was pretty sure that the revised due date was wrong. No matter. My midwife ordered an ultrasound, and Jude passed with flying colors. We had a green light to keep waiting, but I was keenly aware of the ticking clock.

I had a prenatal appointment scheduled for Thursday the 21st, and I was so anxious about what was going to happen. I desperately wanted to avoid induction of any kind, but my October 25 deadline was looming. It was such a battle to trust God that week, to believe that He is good and loving and wise and would be no less so even if I didn't get to have the homebirth I had planned. I'm sure that sounds silly, but that was my frame of mind.

I went to bed Wednesday night fervently hoping and praying that my midwife could come deliver a baby the next day instead of coming for a prenatal visit. Talk about answered prayer...

[part 4: finally, labor begins]

Jude's Birth: A Doula Provided

[part 1: prelude]

If I had been planning a hospital birth again, I'd have hired a doula without a second thought. I wished I had had one the first time around. But initially, I thought that with a homebirth, I wouldn't need one. To make a long story a tiny bit shorter, I ended up deciding I wanted one, and thought I had the perfect candidate lined up, a doula I already knew slightly through online interactions. I was stoked. Until a few days later when it all fell through.

I tried to trust God through my disappointment, reminding myself that if He had wanted her at my birth, if that was what was best, He would have made it happen, and that if it didn't work out, that was because He had something better in mind.

How could I have known what He was up to?

The immediate problem was, how would I find a new doula? My dilemma was that I needed someone who was a Christian. I'm sure there are plenty of amazing doulas who aren't--but it was important to me to have someone who would pray with and for me, someone with whom I could process things with from a biblical perspective. I ended up going to a meet-and-greet and expressing interest in a couple of the doulas, but I still didn't know how to approach the faith issue.

A week later I was contacted by my #2 choice, Dee (#1 wasn't available for October). I explained in an email what I was hoping for in a doula, and asked whether she would be able to support me in that. And her response...wow. I mean, just wow.

She told me that she was a believer, and proceeded to share how she is thrilled to discover that a client is a Christian because she can then encourage the mom as a sister in Christ and not just as a doula. She described her sweetest births as ones where she's prayed over the moms/babies. All that was more than enough to satisfy me--it was exactly what I needed to hear.

But then. She went on to share, oddly, that she is Reformed. Said she hesitated to say so because it can be unnecessarily divisive, but in the interest of being an open book, there it was. Described the church she goes to as similar to John Piper's church. And I'm all, Seriously, Lord? Seriously?

I realize that those of you who are not Reformed are scratching your heads at this point going, either, "What's Reformed, anyway?" or "I don't get it, why is that a big deal?" whereas those of you who are Reformed are going, "Wow, that's so awesome!" :) Let me clarify that I have plenty of non-Reformed friends and don't view the Reformed ones as somehow superior. Basically she just communicated to me that she and I were very much on the same page theologically, not merely believing the same basic set of truths, but understanding Scripture the same way, reading the same books, listening to the same podcasts, and therefore interpreting life through similar lenses. And that lens is one that's in the minority among Christians, so it's not a commonality I expected to find.

I couldn't even believe she mentioned it--it was sort of odd, really, if it hadn't been so...appropriate. I emailed her back and basically said, "Isn't it just like God to provide me with this? You're hired." I mean, I could have cried. To drop a doula in my lap--my third choice, no less--who not only was genuinely a believer in Christ but was actually on the same page as me theologically?! And her response was similar--she confessed to second-guessing herself in her original disclosure, wondering why she'd shared that, and then after hearing back from me, said, "How KIND of God to match us up! This is very, very cool."

So in early September, I was reminded very powerfully that my God is a kind and loving Father who knows how to give good gifts to His children. He faithfully lavishes grace on me even when I am full of doubt and fear and fail to trust Him. He delights to blow me away by providing abundantly more than I asked or imagined.

I needed that reminder--and this doula--as I prepared for Jude's birth.

[part 3: waiting]

Jude's Birth: Prelude

The story of Jude's birth is not merely a play-by-play of all the nitty-gritty details about contractions and dilating and pushing. It's a story of the mercy of God. It's about His abundant provision of grace even in the face of fear and unbelief. It's about intercessory prayer and powerful, clear answers to those pleas. It's about a God who loves to be known as mighty and faithful, a God who bears our burdens and generously gives good gifts.

Four months later, I'm finally getting around to sharing the story. Fair warning: it is going to include lots of details, which may bore those of you who are not interested in birth stories. And it's going to be a multi-part series, because--well, because I'm writing it, and if you've been reading this blog longer than three days, you know that I can't tell a short story :) Disclaimers aside...here we go.

My story--Jude's story--starts with the birth of Elijah three years earlier. A birth that on paper was textbook, uncomplicated, everything I had hoped for. He came in about 12 hours, without any drugs, without any of the interventions I didn't want.

And it terrified me.

I had prepared for natural childbirth, and actually hadn't felt fearful in the weeks leading up to his birth. I felt ready: I can do this. I labored as long as possible at home, so by the time we got to the hospital, I was dilated 6-7 cm. And then my water broke, and instead of the regularly spaced contractions we talked about in childbirth class, my pain turned into one four-hour-long contraction. No breaks. I panicked. I've never felt so scared in my life.

After Elijah was here, I didn't experience that whole "when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish" thing. I used words like "traumatic" and "shellshocked" to describe his birth, less "love at first sight" and more "what just happened to me?" We've covered that on this blog already. But all that to say, learning last February that I was pregnant meant that I was going to have to go through labor and delivery again. And I was terrified. The first time around, I'd read all about the fear-tension-pain cycle, how you can't be scared, and I wasn't. I refused to listen to negative birth stories. I was confident. This time around, I *knew* what was coming--how on earth could I NOT be scared?

Despite my fear of enduring natural childbirth again, I ended up deciding to have a homebirth--which is another post(s) for another day. I spent the first several months in denial about the fact that I was actually going to have to deliver this baby. Then I spent the last couple of months reading book after book, from childbirth books to biblical counseling books on fear. I tried to remember that every birth is different, that this would not be simply a repeat of Elijah's birth. I knew being at home was going to be completely different. I planned a waterbirth, sometimes called "the midwives' epidural." I prayed a lot, and asked others to pray. Then, late in August, I hired a doula. That experience was my first clue that God had something beautiful in store.

[part 2: a doula provided]
[part 3: waiting]
[part 4: finally, labor begins]
[part 5: hard work, but not alone]
[part 6: pain, peace, joy]