The Easier Part

I was told 4th babies come quick. I prayed for a quick, easy delivery. I envisioned every step of what it could look like, all the possibilities, I visualized pushing my baby out in many different scenarios and what that would be like emotionally. I enjoyed every wiggle and hiccup, I thanked God for my body that sustained healthy babies to term and beyond. I never got impatient to get her out. I was anxious, so so anxious. I prayed and meditated on Gods word, I received prayer from so many, I still struggled. I had one stressful situation after the next hit me in the weeks leading up to Genevieve’s birth. Ongoing issues with my teenager, tummy troubles with my youngest, drama with my midwives (which ended up working out better than I could have imagined). It was impossible to come to a place of peace before this baby was born, but I did my best!

I wanted a quick, easy delivery in my home with my big kids close by, possibly even present for the birth if they wanted to be. I wanted minimal interventions, letting birth be as God intended it, trusting my body to do what it was created to.. I wanted control of what happens to me and my baby in a medical sense. I loved the idea of another water birth if possible. I wanted to sleep and recover in my own bed with all of my family close by. I know birth is unpredictable and I was flexible with the details but I had a basic structure of what I wanted this birth to look like.

People say things like, “It doesn’t matter how she got here, as long as you’re both healthy.” Oh but friend it does matter, I know you mean well but if I went with this perspective I would have to bury the pain and grief forever. When I see an unused homebirth item, a pang of grief hits for what was supposed to be. When I feel the shooting pains up my spine from the epidural it comes with the guilt of making a decision I said I never would. So I’m sitting with these feelings, crying when I feel like it, and thanking God for the moments He showed Himself to us in this process.

It was 4am when I decided to go to the hospital. I had been in labor for 29 hours, longer than I thought I could endure. The moment the decision was made I stopped trying to relax through contractions and just let the world know how I really felt about them. Of course the disturbance in the environment caused them to space out for which I was grateful. 

I grabbed the pre-packed hospital bag I thought I’d never need and tossed my charging cords in it. Tim remembered all the other small things we may need and threw together items for himself, called his mom over to stay with the kids and loaded up the car. The midwife called the hospital and relayed all the info they would need to be ready for me.

My heart ached as I walked out of my room, out of the house and into the car. I also felt so much hope for the pain relief we were driving towards, the hope was for some IV pain relief to help my body relax and finish the job. The midwife packed up her things, hugged us goodbye with well wishes, and the assistant followed us to the hospital. I told Tim I didn’t want to answer all the questions about where I was in labor, insurance information or any of that stuff. I just wanted relief as soon as humanly possible. 

Tim dropped me off at the door and the MW assistant (L) walked me in, we were met with a wheelchair and I didn’t even realize it was for me until the nurse pushing it suggested I sit down. I was briskly wheeled straight past everyone and everything into a labor and delivery room. Praise God! It was like an ER scene from a TV show, so many people all at the same time scurrying all around me, asking questions and giving instructions. Each doing their job quickly and efficiently. It felt like mere moments before I was settled in the bed with all the things hooked up to me, labs taken and information put into the system. I was so grateful for Tim and L who helped answer questions while I worked through contractions. 

My pain relief options were fentanyl via IV or an epidural, I chose IV because it would be almost immediate relief verses another hour of labor and still gave me hope of a somewhat natural birth. A nurse (or I think it was) checked my progress and announced I was at 6cm and 50% at -2 station. This was a shock to us all and left us feeling skeptical, how could we have gone backwards like that? Was she wrong? If she was right, I knew I wanted an epidural.

Next the Dr came in, I get a flutter of anxiety just remembering this encounter. I have never been in the care of a male OB or any male Dr. He wanted to know about my prenatal care, asking IF I had received any. This is where I began to become even more grateful L came with us because I was so out of it and she went to battle for me. The Dr questioned why I had not been taking an aspirin a day, getting weekly growth scans and something else I don’t remember based on my BMI. This made us all a bit angry because none of that mattered when I was about to give birth. The Dr questioned why the midwife didn’t transfer with us, I don’t remember the response other than the offer to let him talk to her on the phone. She doesn’t take any BS so I knew that Dr didn’t stand a chance talking to her. 

The Dr checked my progress even though the nurse had already checked me and said the same thing she did, In that moment I let go of my hope for a natural birth. I think the Dr was grateful he didn’t have to talk me into an epidural, the anesthesiologist was called in (from home). At this point they turned to talking me into Pitocin to regulate contractions, my last defense came crumbling down. For a natural home birthing mama, Pitocin is the enemy, Pitocin means forcing your body to do something it doesn’t want to. The combination of epidural and Pitocin means all the medical interventions and likely c-section. The Dr pointed out how long it had been since we had seen any progress, I looked to L and she said she agreed with the Dr. I consented to the Pitocin, waited for the epidural and worked through my last few contractions with Tim, letting go of everything I had envisioned for this birth.

The anesthesiologist arrived, L and Tim were both asked to leave the room. L fought for me to have Tim with me as she hadn’t seen this in any other hospital but they said it was protocol. I told my sweet L&D nurse that meant she had to be my substitute and hold my hand, she was amazing and stood with me from start to finish. I had one last contraction during that process and before I knew it my legs tingled and I could feel my muscles tighten but no pain. I was moved around and propped up for baby to move down, the Dr said he’d be back in a little while to check my progress. He told me the expectations for progress and that he didn’t think we’d end up doing a c-section but if no progress was made we would have to talk about it. I fell into a version of sleep thinking I may be like that all day based on what the Dr had said.

>>Meanwhile, the Dr did talk to the midwife on the phone. He also continued to lecture L and my husband on the care I should have received according to my BMI (being fat) while they waited for my epidural to be administered.

L later told us that I was the only patient in L&D so that explained why I had such quick and efficient care upon arrival. She also said she watched my contractions the monitor as they became longer and closer together. That was strange to think about, my body doing all that work without my knowledge or participation mentally/emotionally. <<

I could hear Tim snoring, I could feel my nurse moving my position every 30 minutes as she said she would, I had a vague awareness of my surroundings. I heard additional voices and felt lights being flipped on, I was woken to be rolled onto my back and checked, had it already been a few hours? I looked at the clock a while and after I could get my eyes to focus realized it was about to be 8am. The Dr barely had to check me before announcing we were ready to have a baby NOW she was at +1 station. Talk about trying to comprehend something life changing, I heard someone wake Tim, I felt people prop up my legs, I tried to tell myself I was about to finally meet my baby. I tried to remember anything I might need to communicate to this stranger about how I wanted this handled. I made sure they planned to put her right on my chest, they said yes and the Dr went through how he would do this, how they don’t do episiotomies anymore and a bunch of other things I don’t remember. As they prepped my lower half and bed for delivery I happened to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the plastic light panel above me and it reminded me I wanted to ask for a mirror to see my girl’s birth (Praise God!) The nurses jumped to it but the Dr said something like, well she’s right here are you sure you want to wait for the mirror while he has his fingers inside me (why I have no idea). I said yes! I want to see. It was just a few seconds before the mirror was set up and I could already see a bit of her head ready to crown. I was told exactly how they wanted me to push and they told me it could take a few tries to make sure I was using the right muscles since I couldn’t feel them. I had thoughts about how I’d done this before and how I knew what I was doing but I didn’t have the energy to voice them so I did as I was told. It took one push to bring her the rest of the way down and another to bring her whole tiny body earthside. I was prepared to push a third time but I saw her little self slip right out into the Dr’s hands. What a gift to watch your own child enter the world! I still had not comprehended it all when this teeny tiny infant was placed on my chest, I couldn’t believe she was here, I couldn’t believe how small she was! 

I don’t think I could adequately put into words all of the emotions that I felt in that moment, the years of praying, hoping, the years of trying, the almost 41 weeks of pregnancy with all the aches, pains and sacrifices that came with it. The last two days of labor, anxiety, stress and lack of sleep. The hormones the human body releases when giving birth. I didn’t just cry, I sobbed! The memory of clutching this tiny baby to my chest and weeping over her will never dull in my memory. Tim cried, L cried, the Dr told me I tore and asked if I’d like stitches, L recommended I say yes. They told me the different things they were doing, asked questions and scurried around the room. I got a few moments of skin to skin with our sweet girl, Tim got to cut her cord. Oh I forgot, and the placenta was delivered for me, how I have no idea but I was told he was going to press on my belly to get it out. L snagged a photo of it after it had been plopped into a plastic container, the cord in the shape of a perfect heart (Praise God!) 

I couldn’t wait to find out how big (or small) Genevieve was, everyone in the room took guesses, no one asked me though, it was as if I wasn’t there. Most guessed close to 7 lbs give or take, if they had asked me I would’ve told them she’s close to 6 lbs. I smiled when they announced she was 6 pounds 4 ounces. Tim got to make the final cut on the umbilical cord, footprints were done, measurements, a hat slapped on, someone asked me what her name was and how to spell it. I was still being worked on in the moment and honestly in a haze, I told her but later found out I told her wrong. That initial assessment of baby seems to take an eternity, it’s so hard to watch your baby across the room from you when you spent the last 9+ months physically closer to them than any other person. When she was returned to me I nursed her and she took to it almost immediately. What a gift (Praise God!) 

I have no idea how long we stayed there but my sweet nurse promised a much more comfortable bed in postpartum, she helped me out of the bed for the first time and into the bathroom. That first time is always the most humbling for me, when someone literally sits on the bathroom floor and helps you put your underwear on loaded with giant pads, and ice packs. 

Once we were settled into our new room I was disappointed to learn our nurse wasn’t coming with, but we were blessed with an equally as amazing one! She must’ve gotten wind of how we came to be at the hospital and took our lack of sleep into consideration. After eating breakfast and getting us checked out she said she’d give us some time to rest instead of checking us every hour like she was supposed to. All 3 of us slept, woke up once to feed and change Genevieve. A solid 5 hours later the angel of a nurse came in and checked up on us. She said she came in at some point but all of us were knocked out and she knew that’s what we’d be doing if we were at home so she let us be. I cannot express my gratitude!

Once we were no longer in so much of a fog we facetimed our parents and our other kids, it wasn’t how we had envisioned that introduction going but it was still special just the same. My mom got emotional when I told her the baby’s middle name is Taylor which of course got me all choked up. 

I believe it was the pediatrician who came by close to 9pm to do an exam on Genevieve, I told her she’d just gotten into a deep sleep and asked if we could do it later. All day long was tests and exams, I just wanted some peace for my baby. She said yes and to let her know next time she woke up. She kinda woke up but really just enough to nurse and be changed before she was back to sleep so I didn’t call. At MIDNIGHT this dr comes back to do the exam, why this couldn’t wait until morning I don’t understand, I guess she missed the memo that I’d been awake for 2 days. Our night nurse was a stickler for the rules and WOKE ME UP to ask me to put the baby in the bassinet instead of sleeping on my chest. The second time she did it I told her we both sleep better together, she left without a word and never came back.

The next morning our day nurse was great about getting everything we needed taken care of to get us discharged, in fact it all went so fast we had our papers by 10:30 and didn’t have our stuff packed up yet. As you can imagine it felt amazing to leave! 

Now we adjust to newborn life, process what happened and spend every waking second loving on our girl! 

Below are the thoughts and reflections from L, our sweet midwife assistant, who became and ally and trusted friend. 

“The word “Sacred” is derived from the word sacrifice. That’s why birth is considered to be Sacred. 

A woman sacrifices her life to give birth and become Mother. That was what I witnessed with Samantha. It was such an honor to witness her labor and birth. It was an honor to witness the Sacred union between a husband and his wife during the most vulnerable time of a woman’s life. Tim and Samantha were such examples. With each strong surge Tim was right by her side, bringing gentle comfort to her, rubbing her back, holding her hand and just making sure he was present. 

Her birth was long and arduous. She was strong in mind and body. She met each surge with resilience. There truly isn’t anything like witnessing a woman in her birth space, it’s truly holy ground as Mama and babe work together to bring this tiny one earth side. And she did it with strength, as she surrendered to what her body was telling her to do. It is her time, it is her calling. Through surrender and rest, little Genevieve came earthside. She was strong and feisty as she drew her first breath. 

After all those hours of labor, little sleep, her reward was finally in her arms. It was such a precious moment. Mom and Dad crying tears of joy and relief. They did it all together, these beautiful people of faith, and it was evident that’s exactly what brought her through, them through, and what brings their family through. ♥️”