Birth

Just as every child is unique, it seems that every labor and delivery plays out differently than the other. Having done this four times now, you'd think I might have some idea of how my body "does" it, but each time I'm surprised. Before the details fade even more, here is the story of Brigid's birth.
    I strongly dislike due dates. As much as I try to downplay "the date" as a magical day, it's pretty hard to ignore. Both of my boys were "late" and Poppy was "early" so I was really hoping we'd have a girl/boy pattern here and this baby girl would be early as well. Forty weeks of pregnancy were to be completed on May 17th, a Monday. I felt really good through most of this pregnancy, and even at the end I was ready, but not miserable. On Sunday night I started having some mild contractions, not strong, but something different than the Braxton-Hicks I'd been having for months. In the past, "those" contractions have never preceded real labor by more than a day or two. I got up Monday morning feeling like there was a good possibility that I'd go into labor that day, and thought it would be funny to have a baby actually born on their due date. Erik stayed home from work and I was able to rest and relax some. My mom, dad, and sisters were all "on call", waiting and ready to come and help when we needed them.

The Belly, in the "fullness of the time" , the day before she was born.

    On Monday afternoon both Peregrine and Poppy had dress rehearsal for their dance classes. My sister Alyssa offered to take them, but I wanted to go since I figured I would probably not make it to their recitals the following weekend; surely Baby would make her appearance before that! Erik and I decided to take them, and Alyssa met us there to help out and "just in case" we needed to leave. I continued to have contractions on and off throughout the day, and I remember walking around at the recital and actually having to stop for a contraction. I enjoyed watching my precious kids make their big debut; Poppy as a fluffy ballerina, and Peregrine tapping and tumbling away as a garage mechanic... they made quite a pair!

Peregrine and Poppy after their rehearsal.

    We got home, put the kids to bed, and decided we'd better get some rest too. Since it was the end of the day I hoped for a decent night's sleep and that "real" labor would hold off until morning. I lay down in my bed, arranging pillows, trying to get as comfortable as possible. Just as I would drift off to sleep I would have a contraction. They seemed to be coming about every 15 minutes, and getting stronger as that long night wore on. Being tired, I just lay on my side, breathing through them, sleeping in between. I frequently got up to go to the bathroom, and every time I did it would bring on more contractions. With all of my other labors my water had broken prior to or at the onset of labor, so even though the contractions were strong and regular I was still a little unsure as to whether this was "it" or not. I kept thinking it would really kick in if I got up and walked around, but I just wanted to sleep. As the night passed the contractions got closer together, but were still only about ten minutes apart. Through all of this my husband slept peacefully beside me, apparently unaware of my turning from side to side and numerous visits to the bathroom. I figured I might as well let him sleep, as he'd need all the rest he could later on. 

    My sister Alyssa had emailed me before she went to bed, saying she'd be up for a while and if I needed anything to let her know. I considered calling her or my parents, thought about asking her to bring over her yoga ball for me to sit on. But, as much as I wanted to have this baby, I really, really wanted some sleep first! So all through the night I slept in short stretches, in between contractions. They grew stronger, so strong that I was gripping my pillow with one hand, my prayer rope in the other, my fingers moving over the knots as I tried to focus not on the pain, but on Jesus, my strength and the giver of mercy. 

    Finally at about 5AM I was tired of laying there trying to sleep; I decided it was time to get up and test my theory. I woke up Erik, who kicked into gear. Sure enough the contractions started getting a little closer together. I sat in my rocking chair for a while and I think Erik made me eat some yogurt. I remember leaning on the counter, moaning, and Erik said that we needed to call the midwife. He's been with me through enough labors to know that if I'm moaning, it's intense, and if it's intense, it could happen quickly. My contractions were still only about 7 minutes apart and I think I argued with him a little, saying the midwife would just tell us to call back when they were closer together. We called my parents to let them know what was going on and then we called the midwife, Michelle. Sure enough, she talked to me and I guess I wasn't too convincing, because she suggested I take a shower or bath and call back when they were coming faster.
    In the time it took me to walk to the bathroom and get ready to get in the tub, I was having a contraction, a strong one, every two or three minutes! Erik called her back and told her we were going to head over, as he wasn't comfortable waiting any longer. My mom and dad got here quickly, and Erik and I, along with my Mom and Poppy, all left for the birthing center. It was a beautiful spring morning, and we got there about 6:45AM. The nurse checked me for dilation and you can imagine my surprise when she said I was at 8 centimeters! I figured it wouldn't be long at all before we would meet out little girl.
    I got into the tub, where I hoped to finish off labor and give birth. The water felt great, so relaxing; unfortunately a little too relaxing, as my contractions slowed down to about five or six minutes apart. It felt good to have a little break, but I had a hard time getting into a comfortable position and after a while I had to come to terms with the fact that the water wasn't "working" for me. The rational part of me knew I needed to let go of my desire to give birth in the water and try something else. Michelle, the midwife, had actually just delivered another baby that morning, so she arrived while I was in the tub. She had such a calm presence; I really appreciated her quiet manner and how hands-off she was. Erik was right there with me, of course, and my Mom and sisters, Alyssa and Gloria, were also there, offering strength, encouragement, humor, and sips of coconut water. My sweet little Poppy would run in every few minutes and say "I love you Mama" and bring me cards she was making in the other room.

Sister Love.
 We've all been at each other's births. I have the best sisters in the world! 

Poppy brought me a Poppy... I was surrounded with such love.

   I got out of the tub, (with some help!) and tried hanging on the squat bar for a while. It didn't escape my notice that the foam covering the bar had bite marks on it. Contractions at this point were very strong, and I think I moaned and sung and probably even roared a little through them. I leaned over the edge of the bed for a while, puzzled and beginning to feel a little frustrated that it wasn't happening more quickly. Michelle felt for the baby's position and said that she was still pretty high up, even though I was so far dilated. She suggested I walk some more, or that she could break my water. As much as I'm in favor of letting things happen naturally, I was very tired and knew that breaking the water would probably help bring baby down. After she broke the water, I labored upright for a few more minutes, and then Michelle suggested that I try laying on my side. At this point I was feeling the urge to push.

Intense for both of us... getting closer.

    The details become a little fuzzy to me at this point. I found laying on my side awkward, but, well, pushing is never comfortable! I usually feel a great sense of relief when it's time to push, like I can finally put all that energy into something instead of just trying to breathe through contractions. And while pushing is never easy, this time it was extra hard. I was seriously doubting that I was able to do it. I remember really roaring, so much that my throat was hurting, and my mom told me to tuck my chin. All of my strength, all that was in me, working, pushing, giving birth, bringing my baby to the light...

Love and joy!
My mom took this and you can see the beads of sweat on my face.

    And she moved through me, out of me; I always think that is the most incredible sensation! She was born at 9:21AM, just about 2 1/2 hours after arriving at the birth center. Erik caught her and placed her tenderly up on me, all warm and wet and new and beautiful. Joy filled my heart, filled the room. The moment of so many expectations, so much hope, had come to pass and our precious baby girl was in my arms. Poppy got up on the bed to admire and meet her new baby sister, and everyone joined in the thanks and happiness! It was a moment I had envisioned for so long; one of the sweetest memories are those moments when you hold your baby for the first time.  It's so fleeting and yet indelibly imprinted in my memory.

My Mom and my girls.

    Our little Pearl had no interest in eating for quite a while. I just held her close, snuggled up against me, enjoying sweet rest and the indescribable wonder of her. She was strong, healthy, perfect. There were a few details I only learned a little later. In the last moments of labor my eyes were closed and I was very internal. I didn't know if Erik had gotten to deliver her or not, as he has with our last two. I was so glad when he told me he was the one who lifted her up onto me. The midwife also said that Pearl was born posterior, or face up, which I think explains why pushing was so much harder this time. I didn't have any back labor in spite of her being in that position, and thankfully, I didn't tear either.  I also didn't know that Poppy had been very upset at seeing me so animated and loud at the end. Alyssa had stood just outside the door with her as I was pushing, and Poppy cried and told her that she never wanted to have babies. (She apparently has that wonderful quality given to women, the ability to forget the pain of labor. She told me this morning, when I was teasing her about not growing up, that of course she will grow up because she wants to have a baby! I'm glad she wasn't traumatized for life!) Alyssa also told me that two men from the laundry service were in the hall collecting the laundry and got a real earful! I bet the birthing center is one of the more interesting places they service.

 

She weighed in at 7lbs 6oz, our smallest baby by an ounce!

   After a while my sisters and Mom and Poppy left and it was just Erik, Brigid, and I. We all snuggled together in the big bed, just resting and enjoying the quiet. I slept for a while and Erik held our sweet bundle. We had several hours together, uninterrupted, before they even weighed her. I loved the atmosphere of the birthing center; it was so peaceful, homelike, and comfortable. Late in the afternoon my parents brought the other kids over to meet their new little sister. We left the birthing center around 7PM, a family of six! My parents took Peregrine and Poppy to spend the night, and so it was just Erik and I and "the littles". Our priest came over to offer special prayers for little Pearl, our newest blessing from God. 

Welcome to the family, little one!

Sweetness.

    And so went the story of our dear Brigid's birth. It was totally unlike any of the other kids' births, unique just like her. We are so thankful that everything went well and that God chose to bless us with this precious little girl. Thank you all for your prayers and love!

  

Thirty-Three Years Ago

We have a guest blogger this morning! My Mom was kind enough to type up the story of my birth. I appreciate these stories a lot more now that I'm a Mom. Thanks Mom, not just for giving birth to me, but for putting up with me in all these years and loving me so much! I'm truly blessed. 

Every woman who has ever had a baby, it seems, loves to hear or tell the story of their birth experience. This is the story of Rebeca Kathryn.  Rebeca was one of those wonderful “planned by God” surprise babies (as I believe all of my babies were). We were living in the wilds of British Columbia in our 6 sided log house with the wonderful skylight up above. Huge fir trees surrounded our “little house in the woods” and how I loved the sound of those trees rustling in the breeze. It was quite a romantic spot!

Early in my pregnancy, I thought how nice it would be to have another girl. Alyssa would be 5 years old when the new baby arrived and Jacob would be 2 1/2. After having a boy and a girl, it seemed that little girls were easier for me to deal with. Boys had so much mischievous energy! But of course, I loved them both so much and would be happy with either one. 

I had no morning sickness the first time around and all day “morning sickness” the second. This third time was not too bad- I had learned a few tricks that helped. I kept in good shape with all the rigors of living in the woods with no electricity.  The “simple life” actually required a tremendous amount of work! Our gravity fed running water would occasionally freeze up in the winter. Wood had to be chopped and the stoves fed. The cow had to be milked.  Doing the laundry was the hardest chore. Diapers, baby clothes and light wash were done by hand or in a hand crank type washing “machine”. Or we would haul the laundry into town once in a while- an hour’s drive away. I have to laugh when I hear people express their dream of “living off the land”!  

Back to Rebeca! The months dragged by slowly- they always do when you are waiting for a baby. July finally came and it was so hot. I remember sitting in the kids wading pool to cool off! By this time in our lives, we had both become Christians. We met regularly with our other Christian friends for Bible study, worship and prayer. On the evening of July 28th that is where I found myself- sitting in a circle of friends- heavy with child and longing to have that baby in my arms. I asked my friends to pray for me and several women surrounded me and laid hands on me. As they prayed I experienced four contractions. I mentioned that when they finished praying. I remember noting that it was close to 9:30 PM. David and I drove home and the contractions kept coming. It felt like more than the false labor I’d been having and I told him we had better go to the hospital as it was that long hour away. We dropped Alyssa and Jacob at the neighbor’s house and started out. The contractions were pretty hard and I said I hoped we were going to make it! 

We actually stopped and picked up a hitchhiker on the way! I’m not so sure of what she thought as I got up with each contraction and leaned over the back seat. I had learned my 2nd time around that staying upright helped ease the back pain.  When we got into town, David asked if he had time to get coffee. I said yes- I relaxed now that we were so close to the hospital. 

We checked in shortly before 11:30 and the labor kicked in good and hard. I could hardly believe it when less than an hour later I had to push! I walked into the delivery room (this was in the days when labor and delivery were in separate rooms) and with just a few pushes, out came a perfect and beautiful baby girl!! The doctor never made it in time so Rebeca was delivered by a nurse at 12:20 AM. Everyone remarked on her thick, long, black hair. She was a beautiful baby- everyone thought so. David was beaming with pride. 

I had rooming in- a new innovation where they actually let you keep the baby with you for the five days they expected you to stay in the hospital. David had to sneak Alyssa and Jacob in for a visit as they did not allow children in those days. Alyssa held her baby sister on her lap and Rebeca made a funny noise. Alyssa exclaimed, “She squeaks like a mouse”! 

There is so much more to tell- how we battled with this strong willed girl from the beginning and how the Lord graciously got a hold of her heart and transformed her into the beautiful woman of God that she is today! But those are stories for another time. 

On Our Way!

Thanks to everyone for your encouraging words and prayers after my last post. I was awake in the night having contractions, and they've continued to come and go throughout the day. I'm pretty sure my water has broken, so we're on our way to the hospital. The contractions are still sporadic and not very strong, but my doctor wants me to come in. Please pray that "real" labor will kick in soon and that everything will go well. It's a beautiful cold sunny spring day, and in the wee hours of the morning I read this verse: 

For You are my hope, O Lord God;

You are my trust from my youth. 

By You I have been upheld from birth:

You are He who took me out of my mother's womb.

 My praise shall be continually of You.

Psalm 71:5-6

I look forward to introducing you to our new little one. Thank you all so, so very much for your prayers! 

The Big Day

Today's the day, the magical "due date" that we've looked to for so many months now. I know as well as anyone that babies come when they're ready and not according to some day marked on the calendar. Even so, it's a bit disappointing to have "arrived" at the day and not feel as if anything is happening!
I thought I'd post a little update on how I'm doing and also a request for prayer. Overall, I'm doing pretty well. Physically I'm feeling well for the most part. I'm easily tired out and have minor annoyances like swollen feet and some back aches, but am not super uncomfortable. I've had enough energy to keep my kids cared for and fed, the laundry done, etc. (And my family has been great, as always, with helping out, bringing a meal, etc.) Also, thankfully, I've been sleeping pretty well. (Other than frequent trips to the bathroom!)
Emotionally I'm feeling a bit brittle these days. I know that changing hormones and tiredness contribute to some of that, and I'm trying to rest as much as is reasonable. Some days that's more than others! I've struggled with fear a lot during this pregnancy, mostly at the beginning, as that was the period of time we lost the previous two babies to miscarriage. For several months I'd had a lot of peace, and then the last few weeks have been battling the fear again. It's not so much going through labor, although I'm not looking forward to it, but fear that everything will be okay and that our little boy will be okay. Please pray with me that I will cling to the Lord and look to Him and not give in to fear, but be able to rest and trust in Him.
I saw my doctor today and everything was fine, but nothing looks imminent as far as we can tell. I knew that it would, but didn't like that the discussion had to turn to what we'll do if he's not born by this time next week. I'm scheduled to go in next Thursday for a non-stress test and ultrasound just to check on our little guy and see how he's doing. Apparently medical protocol, for whatever it's worth, has changed it's mind and now recommends inducing at one week past due instead of two as it used to be. So, at that point, they will want to induce me, probably the next day. I tend to be pretty anti-intervention and really, really don't like the idea of being induced. On the other hand, Peregrine was born about two weeks past his due date, and the placenta showed signs of aging. The really scary part was that after he was born the umbilical cord broke in two pieces- it was very, very fragile. (I remember cutting the cord at one birth I attended, and normally they're very tough.) So, after seeing that, I know that there is some risk in waiting longer, and I'd rather not be put in a place to have to make the decision whether or not to induce. I know induction increases the likelihood of further intervention, but after seeing that with Peregrine I would tend to err on the side of caution and listen to my doctor's advice.
So, that's where we are now. Just for the record, I've had one baby born two weeks past due and another six days early. Also, Erik came from work yesterday feeling awful and slept for over four hours. He stayed home today and has been resting but still doesn't feel well and has a pretty bad sore throat. Obviously, it would be ideal if he feels strong and healthy when the time comes for our baby to be born.
So, here are some points for prayer:

• That Erik will recover from this sickness and the rest of us will stay healthy.
  
• That I will go into labor naturally before next Thursday.
  
• That I will overcome this fear and be able to experience the peace and rest and joy of the Lord.
  
• That the labor and delivery of this baby will go normally and quickly.
  
• That baby will be healthy and strong.
  

I know that many of you have prayed faithfully for us during this pregnancy, and we're so thankful to each one of you. Please continue to remember us during this time, and we'll do our best to keep you posted when anything happens! Also, if you have any Scripture verses you'd like to share that might help me to focus on what is good and true that would be great.

Alethea's Birth Day

        In honor of Alethea's birthday today I finally wrote the story of her entrance into the world.

        Spring had just begun; the air was clear and the first Poppies were in bloom. For nine months now we'd been eagerly looking forward to the birth of our second child and we knew the time was drawing near. I'd been having contractions for weeks but something about them had changed in the previous days and I hoped that it meant the time would come soon. I also knew those contractions could go on for more weeks and I tried not to get too anxious. But I was ready to meet our girl, ready to give myself to the labor of bringing her to the light. Peregrine would kiss the belly that had slowly edged him out of my lap and talk to his baby, encouraging her to "open her door and come out."

      Even though my due date was still a week away I would awaken each morning thinking that "today might be the day". By mid-afternoon I hoped it wouldn't be as I could really use a good night's sleep before going into labor! (Not that anyone can get a good night's sleep when you have a very active little person dancing in your belly.) By night-time I would fall into bed, exhausted, uncomfortable, and eager to meet this baby. We prayed daily for a safe and natural delivery with no complications, a healthy baby, and, as a bonus, that she would come early!

        I'd been awake for about an hour-and-a-half the previous night having contractions, some of which were actually painful. My Mom brought us a pan of enchiladas for dinner that evening and Peregrine asked me if we could get our baby soon. Soon, my boy, we hoped it would be soon. We went to bed and Erik and I cuddled and talked as usual. I had a few contractions that felt pretty strong before drifting off to sleep in my nest of pillows. I woke up around 11:15 and was surprised to have three hard contractions just a few minutes apart. I prayed that if this wasn't "the real thing" it would stop so I could get some rest! In answer to my prayer my water broke and I found myself nudging Erik and asking him to go get me a towel! It's amazing how quickly he changed gears from sound asleep to action in a matter of seconds. We got up and called my midwife and our parents. My Mom and Dad came over within a half hour. My contractions were about three minutes apart from the time my water broke and were already quite uncomfortable. I went in to Peregrine's room and, even though he was sleeping, explained that Dada and I were going to the hospital to get his baby and that Papa would stay with him. He looked so big, sleeping soundly, and it seemed like such a short time ago that he was the tiny baby we were waiting to meet.

        We left the house about 1AM and drove through the still night to the hospital. A few clouds drifted lazily in front of the bright moon. Settled into our room at the hospital the nurse checked me and said I was only at three centimeters. I think those may be some of the most depressing words a woman in labor can hear. Even though I knew better, there was my secret hope that I'd already be at six or seven and that this baby would be born soon. Erik's Mom, Michele, and my sister Alyssa and niece Jessamyn arrived a little later. Erik and I walked slowly through the hallways, stopping for me to breathe through contractions. I would put my arms around him and rest my head on his chest; he was like my rock, always there, strong, calm, loving me through the pain, in awe of the strength that God had given me to bring forth his daughter. My dear friend Paula drove down from Washington and got there a little after 3AM and not long after that my sister Gloria came too. I was surrounded by many of the people who love me best in this life; each one offering encouragement and prayer and strength as each contraction brought us closer to the moment of birth. They took turns walking with me, rubbing my feet, my back, my arms, reading Scripture and laughing together. I had new appreciation for my Mom who went through this five times, as she said she wished she could take every other contraction from me and share the work!

        The pain was becoming more intense and I wondered how much longer it would be. I tried to stay focused on the reward that was to come, thinking of tiny fingers and toes and soft hair. I tried to remember that each contraction was doing its job of bringing her down, down, until the moment came for me to push her out. Around 4 the nurse checked me again and said I was 5-6 centimeters but she wasn't sure so she called her supervisor to come check me again. Once again I felt very discouraged, as at Peregrine's birth that was where I got stuck for hours and hours. The contractions were coming hard and one after another and I didn't think I could last for too much longer. We'd prayed that things would progress normally this time and everyone spoke words of encouragement and strength to me. The head nurse came in and said I was actually at 8 centimeters! I knew that I was in transition and that it was normal to feel unable to cope. At that point Erik and I got into the tub where I planned to give birth. The warm water enveloped me and felt so good on my weary body. My contractions began to slow down, allowing me to rest a bit in between. I felt more able to relax in the water. The room was dim with a light shining on us, my large belly glowing and magnified beneath the water. Erik faced me, and even though we were surrounded by family and friends, I felt like it was just him and I. His love was strengthening me as he held me through each pain. In between contractions we looked into each other's eyes, our foreheads touching, and whispered "I love you".

        I remember at one point feeling like I couldn't bear another contraction. They gripped me and held me and I moaned and called on Jesus for help. I began to feel the urge to push, something that never happened in my first birth. My midwife sat at the edge of the tub, ready to help if needed, but mostly offering advice and encouraging me to push when I felt ready. I loved that about this birth: there was a privacy about being in the water, a sense that this was something I was doing, with Erik, and not something that was being done to me. My midwife suggested I change positions so I got up on my knees and leaned my arms on the edge of the tub. Another contraction, and another, and I knew my baby would soon be in my arms. I pushed with all the strength left in me. Erik was right there, ready to catch her: he said he could feel her hair and a tiny ear. Strength flooded me and I felt her little body move through and out of me, into her Daddy's waiting arms. He brought her up out of the water. She was the gift I gave to him and he gave to me as he gently handed me my daughter. Everyone began to praise God for this brand new life, this tiny person, all wet and purple and precious.

        Alethea Poppy Joy was born at 5:38 in the morning on March 30th, just six hours after my water had broken. God truly answered all our prayers; my labor was fast and normal and we had a perfectly healthy baby girl who was born six days early. Needless to say we were completely taken by this little one. Her skin was softer that anything I could imagine and smelled sweeter than honey. In the words of Peregrine she had dark "wispy wispy hair and sparkling eyes". My Dad brought him to meet her when she was just a few hours new. I heard him before he got to our room, his red rubber boots padding down the hallway. In he came, looking happy and expectant. He took one look at his baby sister, laid his head on her and said "hello!" She was pink and I called her a little Rosebud, tiny and soft and fragrant. Someone said that babies are a very nice way to start people and I'd have to agree. And if very nice babies become very nice people then we have much to look forward to.