Thursday, April 9, 2009

Is that the ocean?

We had another OB appointment this morning. I wasn't sure what to expect. I just come when they tell me to come. We spent quite a bit of time chatting up our midwife about birthing classes (which we missed by 4 days when Jeffrey was born 3 weeks early), and whether or not I would endure natural childbirth again.

For those of you unfamiliar with natural childbirth, either because you have never birthed a child, or because the thought of pain sent you straight into the arms of an epidural, let me tell you a little somethin' somethin'. It sucks. I won't lie. It's the most painful thing EVER. Take your threshold for pain and multiply it by about 100, to the point where you would almost wish you would just die and, in fact, you truly believe that you will... That's natural child birth. Ow. Seriously. Owie.

With Jeffrey, I was completely determined to go through this naturally. (I also thought that it couldn't possibly be that bad... Silly me!) I remember the first 5 hours or so, from the time my water broke, to the time we finally were out of triage and into my birthing room, contractions were about 2 minutes apart. Not having a clue as to what to do, and thanking God for the nurse-nun who sat with me from beginning to end coaching me along the way, I was thinking, ok... I can do this. I breathed through the contractions... They hurt a lot, but, hey, this was natural. Then... the contractions got closer together (like 15 seconds apart, barely enough time to take a breath and breathe through the next one), and for the next 3 hours the pain was almost unbearable, only to find out that after all that work (and it is work, ladies), I hadn't progressed at all. I wasn't dialating. At all. Damn.

At some point during this time, apparently another nurse arrived to let me know that if I wanted an epidural, now would be the time, otherwise it would be too late... I didn't hear this question. I was busy breathing and suffering greatly. But, my dear, wise, loving, supportive husband answered on my behalf. And this was his answer:

"No... she's fine."

This is true. Only, I didn't find this out until after the fact. Listen up, husbands. If your wife is given an option, you better make darn good and sure that she heard AND understood the question. That's all I'll say about that.

Over the next 3 hours, pain increased about 30 times and I literally thought I would die. I turned to Scott and said, "I can't do this," in between the whimpers (which were beyond tears at that point). He said, "Yes, you can!" I said, "No, I can't!" He said, "Yes, you can!" (Looking back, this must have sounded like two four-years olds going, "Nuh, uh!" "Uh, huh!" "Nuh, uh!" Uh, HUH!" ....)

But... I did it. I was told to push... I tried but was exhausted. The doc told me I needed to push through the pain because essentially I was pushing the baby just a little and when I stopped, it would sort of get sucked back in. I thought to myself, "Push through the pain? What does that even mean?" Then Scott said he could see the head. That was enough for me. I pushed with all that I had in me (ha!) and even when the doc told me to stop and take a breath, I just pushed harder and harder, until I saw the head and torso... Doc pulled the baby out and held him up exclaiming, "It's a boy!"

Even now, thinking back, what an amazing journey... All the pain is worth the reward. Incredible. This tiny, curled up human, all wet and warm gently placed on my chest... It's beautiful. If you haven't experienced this, you're probably thinking, "gross." It's not. It's the most precious thing ever.

I remember just moments later turning to Scott and saying, "You just saw my at my worst today." He responded, "No, I saw you at your best."

I have the best husband ever.


So, would I do natural child birth again? You bet. And having been through this once before, I don't have any false notions that it will be easy. I know what to expect. And the pain is worth it. God gave us pains during childbirth (Genesis 3:16). I want to walk with Him through that. I did it once. I'll do it again. (Although, I made it very clear to Scott that should a nurse come in saying that now is the time to administer an epidural, he better make sure I hear it... I can't be responsible for what might ensue if he doesn't.)

Back to today. I asked to hear the heartbeat. That's always a comforting sound. It's reassuring to hear the baby even when you can't see him or her. My midwife pulls out her little doplar, squirts some warm gel on my belly and pushes the little wand around for a while. It was like listening to the ocean... Just some waves of sound. And then in the background, we hear a rapid, "WISH-wish... WISH-wish... WISH-wish..." Beautiful. 145 beats per minute.

For the record, it's not the ocean. It's a baby.

My dear little Wiggle Bean, how I long to meet you face-to-face. I've already had the joy of hearing you and seeing what will eventually be the "finished" you. Even before you are born, I love you. We prayed for you, and God in His mercy and grace has blessed us with you. We pray daily that God's hands mold each detail of you. And while you are ours, you belong first to the One who created you. We're grateful for the gift of your life. We pray that even now, Jesus reveals Himself to you. Blessings, Little One. Just six short months to go.... Love, Mommy

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