A Trial and a Blessing
When my youngest son was about 9-months-old, I found out that I was expecting again. Unfortunately that pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at about 8-9 weeks. I will not go into detail because this is supposed to be a birth story. (I will write up my experiences with miscarriage sometime down the road.) So, to make a long story short, when I found out that I was expecting again, I was a little fearful but mostly ecstatic, elated, overjoyed AND I felt that God had promised me this child.
I conceived immediately after my miscarriage. There was no cycle in between. I found out that I was expecting around January 22 (exactly 1 month past the date of my miscarriage).
Many emotions flooded me at this time, but mostly JOY filled my heart. I KNEW God would keep His promise to me. The entire time that I mourned the miscarriage, I felt as if God was telling me that He would give me the next child and He did. My miscarriage actually drew me into God's arms, strengthened my relationship with Him, and made me more aware of how much I needed HIM.
My baby was due on October 8, 2000.
On October 7th, a Friday evening, my husband and I were having a peaceful evening. The boys were asleep in bed, and my hubby had asked me to help him to grade some papers (he was a teacher at the time). I helped him for a while, then I decided to take my bath.
It was about 9:30 p.m. when I hopped into the tub and after just a couple of minutes of soaking, I felt my first light contraction. I finished up the bath and then joined my husband again downstairs. I decided to call the doctor on call to let them know that my contractions had begun. I also called my friend who would be watching the children while I was in the hospital (this time we were going to the hospital due to the fact that our insurance would only cover a midwife if she was helping a doctor in a hospital).
I, once again, began to grade papers. The contractions were somewhat irregular and not too painful. But the longer I sat, the more intense they became. I had called my mother to let her know that I was in labor, but this time she could not come to the birth...we had moved 1100 miles away from them the year before (for a job). The contractions continued to be irregular, but they were becoming more and more intense. They became so intense that I stopped grading papers and decided to go up and change into my pajamas/hospital clothes. While I was changing I had a really hard contraction (it was about 11:25 p.m. at the time). Once I was changed, I laid down on the bed to wait out the rest of the contraction (it was a good, long, painful contraction). I rested for about 10 minutes, then went back downstairs and sat down on the love seat. Soon after I sat down, I had another contraction, but this time my water broke. I immediately called the hospital and told them that my water had broke. The nurse asked me, "Do you have the urge to push?" I said, "No.....(then), YES!!!!" We immediately called my friend, who we expected to already be at our house, and told her to meet us at the hospital.
My husband ran up to get our boys and put them in the van (I have never seen him move so fast in my life!!!). Meanwhile I was waddling to the door, trying not to push. Once I was on the porch, the urge to push was so great that I was holding myself (like I had to pee) and bouncing up and down. Mind you, our porch was 10 feet from the road so everyone that drove by got a glimpse of what was going on. Once everyone was safely in the van, my husband helped me into the van (where I sat on a towel). Thankfully, we were only about 5 minutes or so from the hospital.
The entire way to the hospital, I was trying not to push, but the urge was so great that I had no choice. I was holding myself up using the arms of the seat because sitting was almost unbearable.
We arrived at the hospital at 1 a.m. My husband went in to tell them that we were there and an emergency room nurse (who was waiting for me with a wheelchair) immediately came out a got me. Again, I held onto the arms of the chair with my hands so I could keep myself up off the chair...and I was still pushing (but trying not to). While my husband parked the van, they raced me up to the maternity ward into a labor and delivery suite. They helped me to strip my bottom half down and onto the bed I went. There was no time for an IV (thankfully). The doctor, whom I had called at 9:30, was still NOT there. The nurses were very kind though and told me to try and wait on the doctor, but if I couldn't, they could deliver my baby.
I couldn't do anything but push (and say, "I'm sorry!"). By the time my husband had parked the van, grabbed the boys (then 20 months and 3 1/2 years), and came up to the delivery room, the baby was crowning. Still, no doctor. When my oldest son saw me, he said, "Mommy's messy!"
The boys were very intrigued with what was going on. They were told to sit in the corner, but once they saw the baby coming out, they had to see what was going on.
Soon after the baby crowned, the baby was born. They set the baby up on my chest and my husband revealed to me that we had a girl!!! A girl, finally! She was born at 1:17 a.m. on Saturday, October 8 (her due date). After my husband cut the cord, the nurses put her in the plastic crib. She didn't cry, but she was as pink as could be. She was just looking around peacefully. Two minutes after she was born, the doctor walked in, shook his head and walked out of the room. She weighed in at 8 pounds 7 ounces, and she was 20 inches long.
Twenty minutes later, my friend arrived to take the boys back to our house. God worked everything out perfectly. I even got to "break in" a nurse (she had never delivered any babies without a doctor present, but there were other nurses there who had delivered babies without a doctor).
She was my biggest baby by far, but my easiest delivery. I am blessed to have her as a daughter and with every pregnancy afterwards, I have been reminded of her fast and furious delivery.
(She's the one with the goofy smile and the crown of roses and ribbon.)