Chuckers

I mentioned a few days ago that I hadn’t shared birth stories before. I think the events of how your precious child came into the world are a wondrous thing, but what I really want to share is how God was working and moving in our lives at the time surrounding each of the births of our children. So, this will be spread over several posts, maybe consecutively, maybe not. We’ll see. Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start ;)

Nine years ago, in the summer of 2001, I met my husband. (Now, all the details of our dating/engagement/wedding are destined for another post and are a huge part of my testimony but this isn’t what I want to share today…) We started dating and it didn’t take long before we knew that we wanted to get married and spend the rest of our lives with each other. At that time I was pretty deep my sin. I’d been living on my own for a little while and my life truly reflected someone not under the authority of her parents, or God for that matter. But God was working in me… changing my heart.

The next summer rolled around and Graham and I were spending everyday together. Sometime in mid-June (sorry hunny, I don’t remember the exact day) we got engaged. We started planning our wedding. I decided I hated the job I’d worked so hard to get, so I quit. I moved back home to look for a new job and save some money before our big day. Two weeks after we got engaged I found out I was pregnant.

Now, Graham and I obviously had made some poor choices, but God is good. I’d been sick for few weeks, so sick I could hardly get out of bed. Finally I decided to go to the doctor. My parents were on vacation when we found out and the second they walked in the door my mom asked how my Dr. visit went. I wanted to wait till they got settled, but she wanted to know what he’d said. As soon as I told them my Dad’s face fell. Hands down the worst day of my life. To see that look on his face I will never forget. I’d let him down. His eyes became teary and without a single word he stepped outside. My mom followed.

My parents had every right to yell at me. But they didn’t. They came in and with a shaky voice my Dad said something to the effect of “We never know how good the Good is until we’ve known how bad the bad is. We are never too far for God’s grace to reach us”. We spent a while talking and shared with my parents that we thought God had chosen to put us in this place to bring us to the very end of ourselves. We were at a point where depending on Him was absolutely the only thing we could do. My mom cried. I cried. Due to past issues we weren’t even sure I would be able to have children. And here we were.

Needless to say the wedding date got moved up. Graham and I were married on August 31^st, 2002 and our precious Chelsea was born February 18^th, 2003*. I’m not looking forward to the day she figures out how to do the math. Not because I’m unwilling to talk about my sin because this event was a catalyst in bringing me to the relationship I have with Christ now, but because I don’t EVER want her to feel like she was a mistake, or the reason we got married. I pray (and trust) that when the time comes God will give me exactly the right words to say to her. She is precious and our sovereign God orchestrated every step of her existence and the timing of her birth for His perfect will. I feel like I was let off easy. I sinned and deserved a harsh consequence. Instead I was given grace, in the form of a precious little girl. One of the most amazing gifts I could have ever received.

Oh Baby!

The older I get the more I realize I don’t know as much as I thought I did. I recently watched The Business of Being Born, a ‘controversial documentary that takes a hard look at America's maternity care system, juxtaposing hospital deliveries against the growing popularity of at-home, natural childbirths’(1) . It really opened my eyes.

The births of each of our four children have been a little different from the previous one and as I’m learning more I’m pretty sure the births of the remaining children God chooses to give us will be different as well. A family friend recently had their tenth child and in sharing the birth story I contemplated sharing each of ours. Then I realized there wasn’t a lot to share.

Our first, Chelsea, was delivered by a Dr. (All our children have been born in a hospital and I had an epidural with each, no complications) I was induced about a week past ‘due date’(2) and then, while in labor they put me on several drugs - I don’t even know what they were. I spent most of labor in a groggy, unaware state and while I remember bits and pieces the experience, as a whole, is a blur. It took about twelve hours from start to finish and about three pushes. Afterwards I was a little discouraged about the ordeal. Even though there were no major problems I still felt like it could be better. So, I opted to switch to a midwife.

Next was Mackenzie. I was scheduled for an induction but the night before she decided to start the process on her own. The midwife was a little scatter-brained which didn’t give me a whole lot of confidence but I’d been through this a mere 10 months before. 8 hours and two pushes later Kenzie arrived with no complications.

Isabelle was delivered by my favorite midwife so far but she too was induced. I was a week past and after being monitored at the midwife’s for awhile they decided to send me over to the hospital. They started the induction and before long I was given an epidural. It wasn’t dispersing correctly through my body so they had me lay on my side. Best thing I’ve ever done. Within 30 minutes I felt pressure and called the midwife back in. While she rolled me over to check things out she realized our little Boo was half-way here. No pushing involved. Not a single push. Labor was about 6 hours if I remember correctly.

Again with Silas I used the same midwife group in the same hospital. I was only four days past my due date but they scheduled an induction for the next morning. Graham and I went home and did some last minute house cleaning. When we were finished I sat down on the couch to rest and started counting contractions. It was around 5 or 5:30. When they were 5 minutes apart we called the midwife, dropped the girls at my mom’s and headed to the hospital. We arrived at the hospital around 8. I tried to labor as long as I could until it became too painful before having the epidural. This didn’t take too long, mostly because I was stuck on a bed, on my back, and I don’t know any pain management techniques. It slowed labor a little so they put me on a tiny bit of Pitocin to move things along. After awhile I asked to lay on my side and sure enough, same as before, within about 30 minutes I felt pressure, no pushing, and he was here. Slightly less than 6 hours since I started counting contractions.

In light of the new things I’m learning I would like to try a birthing center and no drugs next time. Because of my previous birthing experiences I feel confident that complications are unlikely and if I could educate myself more on the art of labor, I feel like a natural birth would be a much better choice. For everyone. And my husband whole-heartedly agrees. In fact, he said it’s the hospital births that weird him out. While I like the idea of a midwife the ones I’ve used aren’t too different from most doctors. They have no hesitation to use inductions or Pitocin. This is a little disheartening to me but I’m not defeated.

As I grow, both in age and in my relationship with Christ, my views on things are changing. A LOT. I used to say “I would NEVER have my babies at home” and “I could NEVER drive a 15 passenger van”. Now, those are things I HOPE will happen. :)

1.Netflix
2.I’m learning that due dates don’t mean much. God is sovereign and babies will come when they are good and ready.