A Brand New Season #2
Every morning my alarm clock wakes me up. I reluctantly open my eyes and perch myself up to see the time on my iPhone. I sigh as I put my feet on the ground and head out to the kitchen to get some coffee. The sky is dark still with a hue of light peaking through. I get my coffee and head back to my room, turn the lights on and with a smile on my face, I am ready to start the day.
The labor and delivery didn't happen at all the way I had hoped, prayed and planned. Another opportunity to walk away bitter and upset, but Ihave am working on not looking at this event as failure. After all, it brought me this precious baby!
My goal was a home birth. I had studied about it. Watched movies about it. Even attended a few home births. I loved the idea of being in the comfort of my own home - working at the speed of my own body. Not paying attention to clocks or the new shift of workers coming into my room to check on me.
All my prenatal care was done by a midwife who came to my house once a month and spent over an hour and half with me. She was thorough, observant and caring. She is trained to notice my mood swings and to get to know my personality so that during labor she can see subtle changes that others might not notice if they are just coming on to the "Scene" during the delivery.
My shelves were stocked with the items on the list that she gave me and the rehearsal had been done weeks before hand with my sisters and mom.
November 24th rolled around and that evening I started getting more consistent contractions. We were at my sisters house, so we ate some dinner, got some dessert to go, and went home to rest. Rick started getting the room ready while I rested on the bed. Two hours later, I called the midwife to give her an update. The contractions were coming closer and stronger and seemed to be progressing quickly. Another two hours and she said she was on her way. This seemed like the real thing!
By 4am though, it still seemed to be the same kind of contractions - over and over and over again. So, the midwife suggested we all try to get some rest to see if my body would kick into gear after that. Sleep wasn't quite restful -- still waking up every few minutes with contractions -- but, the next morning I felt more relaxed and the progress actually seemed to slow down. I ate breakfast and then the midwife felt to see where the baby was.
Posterior. Still. Making things harder for the labor.
So, Rick and I started walking up and down the stairs, I tried different positions from Spinningbabies.com, and we did any trick the midwife could suggest to get the baby to move. I continued to feel contractions regularly and all through the day I labored with no new progression.
But, by 7pm, I was still at 5cm with new progress and I was getting really worn out.
The room got quiet as the midwife sat there watching me... trying to decide what to do next. My Dad was called in to help process the options and my friend, Carol, sat on the floor next to the bed seeing the disappointment register on my face as I heard the word, "hospital" mentioned. I was crushed, honestly. No, I don't hate hospitals, but I did NOT want to have a baby there.
"Why won't my body work this one out?" I wondered. A few hours later, I was sitting in a hospital bed, IV's in my arms, belts around my waist and medication being pumped into my bloodstream with the intention of getting a good nights sleep with some sleeping pills and a low dose of pain medication to assist as well.
I didn't sleep well at all. I would wake up from the contractions and my emotions were on tilt at this point. I would cry and ask why the medication wasn't working. My parents stayed at the hospital with me for hours and I don't know what I would have done without them. I felt so disoriented at this point and ultimately defeated.
The next morning, words that made me cringe started being talked about: monitors being attached to the baby, epidurals, pitocin... Oh, no! I took a deep breath and relied on my family to help me make rational decisions. At this point, I wasn't going to be doing much thinking.
So, during the late morning, the epidural was starting to work and so was the pitocin (not that I could feel that part). This was my first time being admitted to a hospital. My first time with IV's. My first time with narcotics in my system, and my first round of antibiotics. Go big or go home, right?
By 3pm or so, I could tell my legs were starting to cramp up every 2 minutes as feeling was being regained slowly in my lower half. My mother-in-law started timing it and she knew my body was in full-gear now. As the epidural wore off, I felt the intense contractions hitting my body over and over again. The nurse checked me and said she wouldn't say I was completely dilated, but could confidently say 9cm. Yay! We were progressing!
The OBGYN came into the room as the baby's head was crowing. I pushed for 40 minutes or so. My sister, Brietta, on my left and my mom on my right. I could NOT have done this without them. Labor is one of the most amazingly intense situations. The adrenaline rush is overwhelming, but the technique is crucial and they coached me and encouraged me every step of the way.
At 4:50, a baby girl was set on my chest and my life was forever changed.
I am not a morning person. But, since November 26th, I haven't cared that my alarm clock is now an inconsistent time all revolving around a 7-8 lbs. baby laying next to me in bed. How could I care about such silly things like "sleeping in" when I am greeted by this little person who desperately needs me and relies on me for everything?
For over three years we waited to welcome a baby into the world. Oh the prayers -- maybe even prayers from you -- the ache, the discouragement as month after month went by. Sometimes there were extreme moments of faith and other times, moments when I was the weakest person I knew. So many, many lessons learned. Lessons about trusting God and what that really meant. Lessons about having faith that there was a purpose to my life during every season He has me in. Lessons about digging in and staying content with serving the local Church and my husband. The list goes on.
Maybe you are also waiting for that day. For some fulfillment of His word to come to pass in your life. I'd like to say it won't be all that its cracked up to be. Maybe it was partly the waiting... Maybe it is just how its designed to be. But, this creation... This little person is the greatest joy to my life.
Margaret Kathleen Gilchrist: Purest Pearl, Servant of Christ
Born November 26th, 2012
The labor and delivery didn't happen at all the way I had hoped, prayed and planned. Another opportunity to walk away bitter and upset, but I
My goal was a home birth. I had studied about it. Watched movies about it. Even attended a few home births. I loved the idea of being in the comfort of my own home - working at the speed of my own body. Not paying attention to clocks or the new shift of workers coming into my room to check on me.
All my prenatal care was done by a midwife who came to my house once a month and spent over an hour and half with me. She was thorough, observant and caring. She is trained to notice my mood swings and to get to know my personality so that during labor she can see subtle changes that others might not notice if they are just coming on to the "Scene" during the delivery.
My shelves were stocked with the items on the list that she gave me and the rehearsal had been done weeks before hand with my sisters and mom.
November 24th rolled around and that evening I started getting more consistent contractions. We were at my sisters house, so we ate some dinner, got some dessert to go, and went home to rest. Rick started getting the room ready while I rested on the bed. Two hours later, I called the midwife to give her an update. The contractions were coming closer and stronger and seemed to be progressing quickly. Another two hours and she said she was on her way. This seemed like the real thing!
By 4am though, it still seemed to be the same kind of contractions - over and over and over again. So, the midwife suggested we all try to get some rest to see if my body would kick into gear after that. Sleep wasn't quite restful -- still waking up every few minutes with contractions -- but, the next morning I felt more relaxed and the progress actually seemed to slow down. I ate breakfast and then the midwife felt to see where the baby was.
Posterior. Still. Making things harder for the labor.
So, Rick and I started walking up and down the stairs, I tried different positions from Spinningbabies.com, and we did any trick the midwife could suggest to get the baby to move. I continued to feel contractions regularly and all through the day I labored with no new progression.
But, by 7pm, I was still at 5cm with new progress and I was getting really worn out.
The room got quiet as the midwife sat there watching me... trying to decide what to do next. My Dad was called in to help process the options and my friend, Carol, sat on the floor next to the bed seeing the disappointment register on my face as I heard the word, "hospital" mentioned. I was crushed, honestly. No, I don't hate hospitals, but I did NOT want to have a baby there.
"Why won't my body work this one out?" I wondered. A few hours later, I was sitting in a hospital bed, IV's in my arms, belts around my waist and medication being pumped into my bloodstream with the intention of getting a good nights sleep with some sleeping pills and a low dose of pain medication to assist as well.
I didn't sleep well at all. I would wake up from the contractions and my emotions were on tilt at this point. I would cry and ask why the medication wasn't working. My parents stayed at the hospital with me for hours and I don't know what I would have done without them. I felt so disoriented at this point and ultimately defeated.
The next morning, words that made me cringe started being talked about: monitors being attached to the baby, epidurals, pitocin... Oh, no! I took a deep breath and relied on my family to help me make rational decisions. At this point, I wasn't going to be doing much thinking.
So, during the late morning, the epidural was starting to work and so was the pitocin (not that I could feel that part). This was my first time being admitted to a hospital. My first time with IV's. My first time with narcotics in my system, and my first round of antibiotics. Go big or go home, right?
By 3pm or so, I could tell my legs were starting to cramp up every 2 minutes as feeling was being regained slowly in my lower half. My mother-in-law started timing it and she knew my body was in full-gear now. As the epidural wore off, I felt the intense contractions hitting my body over and over again. The nurse checked me and said she wouldn't say I was completely dilated, but could confidently say 9cm. Yay! We were progressing!
The OBGYN came into the room as the baby's head was crowing. I pushed for 40 minutes or so. My sister, Brietta, on my left and my mom on my right. I could NOT have done this without them. Labor is one of the most amazingly intense situations. The adrenaline rush is overwhelming, but the technique is crucial and they coached me and encouraged me every step of the way.
At 4:50, a baby girl was set on my chest and my life was forever changed.
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have put off my sackcloth and clothes me with gladness,
To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever!
Ps 30
I felt myself breathing faster as I read this!
ReplyDeleteYou are an example of triumphing in the midst of an unpredictable situation. People need to see how we fare when our plans go awry.
Margaret is beautiful.
Kathy