I have been anxiously waiting to find a chance to write Isaac's birth story and can hardly believe that he's already six weeks old! I thought I had no free time before we had our fourth little one, but his arrival has really taken that to a new level. Since my older three are no longer nappers, there's not even time for catching an hour or two nap here or there like I used to when my other babies were small. Nope, Mommy has been getting up with the kids and going to bed with them too just to try to get in enough rest to compensate for all the sleep lost in the middle of the night, and sleep has won out over blogging!
Sweet little Isaac has given me a run for my money from the beginning though. This might not have been my first rodeo, but he sure has shaken things up and done them quite a bit differently from his siblings just to keep us on our toes. Twice I even went to the hospital in the third trimester only to be sent home after being told they were just false labors. I had so many unusual contractions - some painful, some that were not and some at regular intervals, some not - that I wasn't sure if I was every going to be able to tell when it was really time to go. It seemed like for two months solid they were coming!
Not surprisingly, a couple days before Easter, I began feeling contraction after contraction again and wondered once more if I was getting close. (It was hard to tell!) I kept trying to pay attention to how far apart they were or if they were becoming consistent, but nothing really seemed to intensify or regulate so we kept waiting. The night before Easter though things were somewhat more painful, and I was up counting contractions in the early morning hours. By the next morning, I was pretty sure that I was in the beginning stages of labor and messaged my mom and sister to give them a heads up that I'd probably need to head to the hospital later that day. Since things still seemed pretty slow though, we went through our normal routine of doing Easter baskets and getting ready for church. However, we also got some bags together for the kids just in case and took them with us as we headed out to church and Granny's for the day.
Sitting in the worship service, I kept recording my contractions on a little note card, watching to see if they grew any closer together. I can't remember much about what the sermon was about, but I remember how surreal it seemed that I might be in labor and here I was standing with the rest of the congregation singing with Reid (who is 40 lbs) perched on my hip. In hindsight it was pretty amazing how calm and happy I was that morning with the threat of more intense labor pains on the horizon, but I'd had mild contractions for days so I guess part of me was just getting used to it. Plus, I was so hopeful that it was finally time that we'd get to meet our little one. In all honesty, I'd been expecting him to arrive Easter day all along - 2.5 weeks before his due date just like his older brothers did, so it didn't feel like much of surprise.
At Granny's, I continued to keep my little note card nearby and watched as the time in between contractions grew closer. I mentioned to a few family members that I'd been having contractions but at that point things were still mild enough that we didn't have any real excitement. After Granny's though, we hopped over to my mom's for a bit for the kids to open their baskets from her, and it was at that point that I really began feel things intensify, especially as we rode around the yard in her "chicken wagon" bumping here and there across the yard.
We headed home to get everyone ready at that point. Granny was originally supposed to watch the older kids for us when I went into labor, but since she'd had such an busy day prepping all the food for Easter and had had a house full of company, we knew she was way too worn out to do any babysitting. With that in mind, we tried to get a hold of my sister to come watch the kids so we could head over to the hospital, but she and Brandon had headed up on the Skyline Drive and weren't back yet. Thinking I could wait for them to get back, we weren't worried at first, but as the labor pains came more quickly I wasn't so sure. When I talked to her again and realized they'd traveled all the way to Staunton, we knew we needed to find another option.
Could it get any more crazy? First Granny couldn't help us and now my back up was no where nearby either! Being Easter day, it seemed everyone was busy doing something. However, I messaged my friend Heidi, who I'd previously asked to be our second back up just in case since she is one of the very few people Reid will stay with without crying. Thankfully, she said she could come if my sister didn't make it back in time, so I told her I'd call her if the pains started getting closer to give her time to head over. It seemed like we finally had it figured out! That is until things sped up quickly all of the sudden! In the end, Heidi ended up calling her sister Heather to come to our house instead since she was much closer. (See what I mean? Every step of the pregnancy Isaac had to make things complicated.)
I knew Caleb and Hadley would both do fine with Heather, especially since she teaches their Sunday school class, but I was a bit worried about Reid, who is so clingy us still at this stage. He'd been napping when she arrived so I was wondering how he'd react when he woke up, but thankfully he did really well until Aunt Courtney could get there. I later learned that as he slept Heather had rubbed his back and prayed for him that he would be okay with the situation, which blessed my heart so much to hear. Thankfully, he Lord was faithful to answer those prayers.
Though my contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart by the time we left the house, surprisingly they weren't that painful. I kept wondering if I'd get there and they'd tell me I wasn't dilated and send me home again. How embarrassing that would be! This was my fourth go around; I should know for sure if I was in labor or not, right?
Needless to say, I was so grateful when I arrived that it didn't take them long to determine that I was at six centimeters already and to decide to admit me. Though I was still not in that much pain yet, I was thinking about what the next several hours would entail. Months prior, I had decided that I was going to try to go without an epidural this time and I tried to begin preparing myself mentally for what was to come. Meanwhile, as I sat in the triage room waiting to be transferred, I could hear the woman in the room next to me through the thin curtain as the nursed tried to help her while she struggled. As I listened to the intensity of her pain, I felt God tugging on my heart telling me to pray for her as I would pray for myself through the process and I began lifting her up, making intercession for this lady I'd never met as best I knew how. Even once we went to separate rooms, I thought about her and continued praying over the next several hours as we both labored to bring our children into the world.
I arrived in my room probably within 30-45 minutes of arriving and they set me up with an IV and several monitors. Though the contractions were pretty close together, they were still fairly mild and I felt a bit guilty thinking about that poor woman in triage who's labor had been so intense. I was a bit worried too that maybe this little one was going to be a long time coming since I'd already been having contractions for days and the pain wasn't anything compared to what I'd experienced with my other kids, but the nurse assured me not to worry that, even if things didn't seem to be intensifying, my contractions could still be productive in helping to dilate in preparation for the baby.
We talked some about my decision to try to go without an epidural, and I remember asking her a ton of questions about what to expect as one fear after another of the unexpected crept into my mind. She was great at answering my questions and reassuring me that I could do it, helping me to continue preparing emotionally for what was to come.
Things continued to go pretty smoothly and there wasn't much excitement. Unlike with my other labors, there weren't a bunch of folks in and out fussing about either. They just kind of let me do my thing. From past experiences, I'd learned a little more about how to relax and focus on getting through the contractions too, which helped me not tense up and made things easier. I remember with Reid how I clung to Deuteronomy 31:8, which says that God had gone before me and was with me. Repeating that to myself had helped so much last time, so as part of preparing for Isaac's birth one of the things I did to get ready was to copy other verses on note cards to help encourage me when my time came. A friend of mine had talked about how she'd chosen to go without an epidural for her second child and how she had realized that in order to do so she wouldn't be able to do it in her own strength - she would need to rely on the Lord. I had been debating whether or not to get any pain meds myself this time since I didn't have good experiences with Hadley or Reid, and her testimony really encouraged me to let the birthing process to be one of worship, one of fellowship between me and my Father as I relied on Him to carry me through. Out of all the verses I looked up in preparation, the ones that stood out to me were the passages that talked about how though there may be pain and sorrow for a short time, there is still joy because of the hope that is to come. While those verses refer specifically to the suffering here on earth and hope to come in heaven, it was applicable too to what I was experiencing as the birthing process would be rough for a short time but there was so much joy to look forward to in holding my baby afterwards. I felt so blessed that with these words God not only encouraged me through laboring, but also helped me to develop a strong visual understanding of how short our trials are here on earth compared to the hope that is to come.As the contractions grew stronger, it was the promise above that I began repeating to myself, helping me through each one.
Eventually though, I grew surprised that despite how long I'd been there they hadn't checked again to see how far I'd dilated nor had they broken my water. The nurse said to just let her know when I was beginning to feel more pressure, and finally after a while I mentioned things seemed to be progressing so my doctor came it to check. Stating at first that I was at about nine centimeters, he quickly retracted his comment saying something like maybe I was still only about six. It was at that same moment that be became somewhat startled, saying the baby felt breech. Immediately, he called for an ultrasound and we found out quickly that his assessment had been correct. A c-section it was...so much for trying to go natural...
So much happened in the next 45 minutes that it seemed like a whirlwind. At first, I remember mostly how upset and deflated my mom was the instant she heard the verdict. I was shocked at first too and was a bit deflated, knowing I couldn't have the natural birth I'd hoped for. But, in some ways it was a relief, knowing those labor pains were about to end. While I wasn't too distraught myself in light of the news, I could tell it really knocked the wind out of my mom, and so as they prepped me and wheeled me back I felt really compelled to pray for her.
I also prayed desperately that everything would be okay with the baby. In the process of checking to see how far I was dilated, the doctor had planned to break my water and had done so accidentally before realizing that the baby was breech. As a result, things were speeding up and the pain increasing, which began to overwhelm me. Breathing through the contractions was one thing, but the worry that my body would try to push Isaac out before they could get in the operating room to remove him was much harder to handle. While I thought I would be praying for God to help me lean on him for strength in a physical sense as I delivered this child, I began to see that my dependence on him would be every bit as much of leaning on him emotionally and mentally as it was physically.
Everything felt surreal as they prepped me and rolled my bed towards the OR. My mom, who has been with me for all my other deliveries was not allowed to be there, which broke my heart for her. Dave, on the other hand, was permitted to join me but not until I'd received the spinal block and everything had been completely prepped. As I left them both behind, I remember how extremely alone I felt and shaky as I was rolled into this bright sterile room of people bustling. The anesthesiologist had no bedside manner at all as she barked orders at me for where I was supposed to sit and how I needed to bend my back and shoulders so she could do the spinal. Trying to fight through contractions, I did my best to do what she was saying, but she continued to be impatient and there was no one to advocate for me in my pain as they'd been left at the door. Thankfully though, God had provided a nurse, who gently encouraged me, held my head, and tried to position me as I needed to be. I didn't see her face or know which nurse it was, but I was so so grateful she was there. I remember continuing to repeat to myself despite the sting of the medicine from the needle and breath taking contractions the same verse I'd meditated on earlier - this wouldn't last, joy would be soon.
Finally, Dave was allowed to come in and sit beside me, but he was very quiet and I was so emotionally overdrawn that I couldn't communicate much myself. The anesthesiologist became much more personable and tried to give us the play by play as Dr. Meyers began making the incision. I can't remember much of what she or the doctor had to say, but I do remember feeling very detached from what was happening like I was there but in a way I wasn't. There were people everywhere but I felt alone - lost in my own thoughts and fears as I tried to process everything - the fact that I wasn't going to have the delivery I'd envisioned, that I'd labored for several hours without pain medication in vain, that I couldn't see what was happening, that I couldn't even feel much of my own body.
At one point the anesthesiologist told Dave he could stand up and look over the curtain to see our child being born. In a paradoxical way, I felt relief that he could see what was happening since I couldn't and at the same time grief that he was getting to watch our child being born and I was be blocked out as they took him from my womb.
I remember it felt like they were jerking my body all around on the table as they tried to pull him free, at one point commenting that his head was stuck. I remember Dave's quietness and his eyes above his mask, which looked concerned. Then I remember the whirlwind as I heard them whisk my child away and the waiting as I listened to hear him cry. "Is he okay?" I asked Dave. I wasn't convinced with his quiet answer and asked again moments later, desperate for him to assure me all was well since I had no ability to check for myself. Stuck on this table, blocked out by the blue dividing sheet...how unfair it seemed that I couldn't have my sweet boy in my arms immediately like I'd hoped. While it definitely isn't the same as embracing your little one immediately after they enter the world, thankfully, my husband was able to go and grab some photos though for me so I didn't miss out completely on those first precious moments.
As I lay there listening helplessly for any information I could hear - another surprise! 5 lbs 12 oz they said? Wow! How tiny! I'd thought he'd be in the seven pound range like his siblings, especially since I'd put on so much weight and he seemed to fill up my belly to capacity. How small he must look? I wanted to see him so badly!
Though it was probably only minutes it seemed like forever before I finally got the chance to meet my sweet Isaac. After all those months of daydreaming about what his precious face would look like, it felt deflating that so many strangers in the room got to see him first and spend those first few minutes with him when I wanted to hold him so desperately and see for myself that he was okay, but at least he was safe. He was finally here!
I got a quick look him from my awkward angle on the table and was so relieved to see he was as perfect as they said he was. We barely had time to snap a family photo though before he was whisked out of the room with his daddy to meet his NaNa while I lay there waiting to be stitched up.
I hate that I missed the two of them meeting first time too and that so many arms got to hold him before mine, but again, at least he was safe and I was safe. It wasn't that long before we were reunited and I had the opportunity to nurse him and take in every detail of his precious features.
Things didn't go exactly as I had planned, but in the end there was joy. I had my beautiful little fella to enjoy and several days in the hospital to rest up and do nothing but savor him.
I might not have had the natural birth experience I expected, but I still feel like the process was one of worship as the Lord led me to depend on Him and trust in His faithfulness as I faced things I hadn't before. Even the scar that will now forever be across my stomach reminds me of how God often leaves signs throughout the Scriptures to remind the people of how He has carried them through. Because we are all so prone to forget and not give Him the praise He deserves, each generation desperately needs such visuals to help draw our hearts back to remember His promises and the ways He's delivers us. Not only did He carry me through this labor experience, but He also answered my long time prayers and longing for this little one and that mark on my abdomen will always be a reminder of that. He is so good!
Thank you, Father, for this gift. What a beautiful soul you knit together in secret in my womb and now give us the privilege of nurturing. How humbling that you have entrusted us with this precious gift. You are worthy to be praised! Amen.
