It usually occurs to me to write at times when I'm alone and my spirit is quiet: in the car, in the shower, late nights when I cannot sleep. At nearly 27 years of age, never did I imagine my life to be so full. I always imagined it this way: I've always wanted to be a young mom, chasing my kids around with an able body, traveling the world with them and sharing great experiences with my husband and kids in tow. But never did I imagine that it would feel like
this.
I'm often taunted by my Facebook newsfeed, filled with old friends my age, still going out (without having to find a babysitter), drinking "boat drinks" in the summer without care, picking up and moving on a whim... I realize that this is temptation, not a test of my will. However, I think of my life prior to having children and appreciate the experiences and adventures during that season of my life. This is a new season: the season where I've spent the last 3 years making, growing and nursing babies. Instead of pining over those years of my youthful body, I'm thankful for them and what they've taught me. I'm even more thankful that I now have two amazing and healthy children who call me Mama...and once I acknowledge that fact, I'm immediately paralyzed with fear.
I don't consider myself to be a fearful person, yet there are times in my life and experiences that have allowed fear to creep up on me. One of those experiences relates directly to another experience: that of giving birth.
When I was four or five years old, my dad, great adventurer and lover of the ocean, thought it would be a good idea to teach me the fear of the ocean...not necessarily for me to be afraid of it. On the contrary, he wanted me to appreciate its power and generally enjoy the seemingly carefree joys of swimming in the ocean. Every daughter should feel safe in the arms of her father, and I did... until a wave caught us both off guard and there was only enough time to "duck" instead of gleefully jump over the wave. At that moment, I cannot recall any other feeling other than pure fear...and that of salt water rushing up my nose. Thankfully, one wave was all it took to learn my lesson, but to this day, I am still wary of getting too far into the ocean. Each wave is still "jumped" with extreme caution - one by one - until I'm completely exhausted after only five minutes of wading.
Giving birth to me is like "jumping" the waves. While giving birth is not supposed to be a carefree, joyful experience (until the baby arrives, I suppose), it still reminds me of that time in the ocean being caught under a wave. With each contraction, another wave. Approaching each with caution and full awareness of what my body is doing. The pain is there and only gets stronger as labor gets further along, yet somehow my body knows exactly what to do. All I can do is endure the pain - hold my breath, figuratively, until the wave passes over. Only 22 seconds until the pain would subside, then a short break until the next wave came along. "You can do anything for 30 seconds," Bobby kept whispering to me in encouragement.
We were admitted to the hospital on Friday night to be induced on Saturday morning. I was 41 weeks pregnant to the day. My fabulous midwife (I saw a midwife this time around, rather than an OB/GYN) placed a ripening agent (Cervadil) to prepare me for induction at around 8:30pm. I was not to get up from my bed for at least 2 hours, the nurse said, as she handed me a very large cup of ice water. "Now drink this and stay hydrated," she said. Ha. Two hours was plenty of time to sit and wait. Wait through the very strong cramping all night long. So Bobby broke out the iPad and we watched a movie.
The movie was only a distraction. I was so uncomfortable and had started contracting almost immediately after the Cervadil was placed. Although they were relatively weak and irregular, I paid no mind. Praise the Lord, the movie was over... two and a half hours later. I could finally get up and use the bathroom, and by then, I was very uncomfortable with contractions. I was supposed to endure the night with the cramping AND somehow manage to get some sleep. I felt like crying. There was no way I was going to make it with my hopes of giving birth completely medication-free. We attempted to go to sleep at 11pm, and for an hour, I tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. The contractions were much stronger and my steadfast hope in myself and my body's pain tolerance were seriously waning.
By midnight, I couldn't stand it. I woke Bobby up from his short nap and asked him to rub my back. The trooper he was, got up immediately and got to work. I called for the nurse...
surely something was happening. Some comforting words and an offer of a sleeping pill was all she offered. She left briefly, and I broke down to Bobby. There was no way I could make it to the morning with this pain. Unsure if I was actually in labor or not, I had given up hope. The nurse came back to check if I had progressed at all. "Oh! You're dilated 4 centimeters!" What?! So... am I in labor? She didn't say. I was too delirious and tired from fending off contractions and not getting any sleep that I could not think for myself. "Please. I need something for the pain," I begged, feeling utterly defeated. I prayed and prayed at that moment that God would send me a wave of strength to get through this. She ordered the medicine to be put in my IV, but first, she had to get a good read on the baby's heart beat for at least 20 minutes... which would require me to sit still in bed for 20 minutes. That I could not do. I HAD to use the bathroom so frequently, if only just to get up and walk around to ease the pain. After an hour of back and forth to the bathroom, the nurse checked me again - I was now at 6 centimeters. It was now 1:00am. I could not sit still and the nurse couldn't get the 20 minutes she needed in order to administer the medication. Looking back, I realize that it was God giving me the strength I needed to get through. I could do it, but I still felt defeated. When I came back to bed around 3am, the nurse told me that she couldn't get her 20 minutes and so she couldn't give me the pain medication. At that point, I didn't care. I was being tossed into the throws of the waves and my mind was full of fear. Fearing each contraction as it came, and focusing on those 22 seconds until the pain would subside. After each one, I felt water-logged, as I had felt when I was 5 years old. Until suddenly...
...I had to push. What?! No. It was too early. As far as I could tell, no time had passed since the nurse checked me last. If I pushed while still at 6 centimeters dilated, there would be lots of undesirable swelling which could lead to an unplanned C-Section. Time stopped at that moment, and I could hear myself crying out to the Lord. My arms were shaking from clutching the side of the hospital bed with all my might. At that same moment, a wave of silence and peace came over me and I could hear the reassuring voice of my midwife, who had finally been told I was in labor. "I'm in labor!" Unaware that she had checked me again, I heard her break my wave of silence and say something glorious: "You're at 10 centimeters... you can go ahead and push if you need to." The Lord had brought me through, although I was still worried I'd had a long road of pushing in front of me (I pushed for FOUR hours with Camden). No way could I do that again. It was 4:00am, when they told me I could push. Out of what seemed like no where, some kind of strength kicked in and I was able to push for only 20 minutes and out came my beautiful, little girl with the most precious cry at 4:21am.
They placed her on my chest right away and she looked right up at me. I looked over at Bobby for a brief second and he was in tears...something I've never seen before. She sat on my chest for several minutes and we couldn't take our eyes off each other. After a physically trying pregnancy and an emotional and draining labor, she was finally here. Our sweet Penelope Cate. And after that, none of the rest mattered. I closed my eyes to remember that moment, but ended up in prayer by default...thanking God for such a gift. A miracle. A joy.
After great suffering and pain, HE brings something unfathomably beautiful.
I can now say that I've birthed both of my babies without the assistance of any pain medication. The decision to do that was by choice, and not without the unfailing support of my dear husband and labor-coach, Bobby. I'm thankful for my decision and the many benefits it has yielded myself and my babies. I'm thankful for the Bradley Method, which taught us several methods of pain management for giving birth without any use of pain medication. The 12 week training (and the encouragement of my very supportive midwife and nurses) class is how I was able to manage. If you are thinking of giving birth medication-free, please look into taking the classes.
Now here we are... two weeks later as a family of four. There are adjustments to be made by all of us, but I cannot wait to spend the years together as a family. A family that God has made complete. Thank you to ALL of you who've sent us cards and gifts and sweet notes of encouragement and congratulations. We are so blessed and grateful to be surrounded in love by so many.
A few shots from Penelope's first two weeks:
Our girl, just an hour after she was born.
Leaving the hospital!
Right after we arrived home with P. Camden wanted to hold "seester."
Sweet dreams.
When Cam slows down enough to take a glance at Penelope, he loves pointing out her body parts. "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" has become a regular in our song rotation these days.
It was 11am and we had all had a rough night before. Daddy had to go to work, but the rest of us took a 3 hour nap together in the "big bed." It was glorious. We snuggled once everyone was awake.
Baby perfection. Still, at over 3 weeks old, this girl has perfect skin! Cannot believe it.
These lips.
Grandma and P singing some songs. I'm so thankful that my Mom came to stay with us for several days once we came home from the hospital! She cooked and played with Camden while the rest of us caught up on sleep and healed!
Grandpa swinging her to sleep.
Oh, how she looks like Camden here. This girl has our hearts already!
