A Surprise Pain-free, Unassisted Birth

The number of times I have sat down and have attempted to write this story is silly. The "Story of Your Birth" page in Isla's baby book is still blank, and she is nearly 8 months old. And yet, every time I have tried, I end up backing away from the table, worried that my effort to recount it all will come up short. I worry that I'll miss something, that my words will sorely fail at conveying how merciful and gracious God was when He granted us the gift of Isla's entrance into this world. Even now, I want to shut the computer and try again tomorrow... maybe even next year.

But, I also want to share the JOY. I want to share that journey of facing all the questions, all the worries, all the plans that were completely foiled, all the prayers that I felt were too silly and too small to bring to His throne.

During all three of my pregnancies, I searched around to read and listen to other women share their birth stores, specifically looking for women who were solid in their faith, honest and encouraging.

If that is you, hello and welcome. I am going to trust the process, make myself sit down for a minute, and would love to share with you the story of our daughter's pregnancy and birth.

Backstory:

Let me open with this - by comparative standards for this town, I'm fairly crunchy. Actually, my husband and I both are. I start with that because I feel it will help explain why this story is full of so much inner turmoil that took a lot of heart work in surrendering. I have had three natural, unmedicated births (you can find my favorite books on natural births and other pregnancy/postpartum favorites here)and had every intention of this last one being at our house in a big white blow up pool. Hilariously, all three births have been in different locations and with different providers. Two hospital births (different hospitals) and one birth center delivery with a midwife (a different story for a different time). We are in Louisiana, where unfortunately, birthing centers and home deliveries are not very supported. And, you are pretty hard pressed to find a doctor that supports a mother's wish to move her care to a midwife (barring any extreme medical conditions).

When we became pregnant with our third child, Luke and I were very eager to make plans in having a home birth. Our delivery experience with our first child was in a hospital, and I'll just say that it was not a positive one. So much so that we googled "midwives nearby" when I was 38 weeks pregnant with our second child, and that is ultimately how we landed at the local birth center with a wonderful midwife (sadly, the birthing center has since closed and the midwife is no longer practicing). With no birth center to bank on, we decided that we would return to my OB and hope that she would give the green light for us to have a home delivery with a different midwife (as of now, Louisiana law requires physician approval for mothers wanting midwifery services for prenatal/birth/postnatal care).

Early on, Isla measured "small". Specifically, she measured about two weeks behind. I was confident that I had my cycle days right and really wasn't bothered by her measuring on the small side. After all, due dates are really only our "best guess" dates. So, I decide to still reach out to the only practicing midwife in town, interviewed her, and left with the paperwork to fill out so that we could start the process of transferring to her care. All we needed was a thumbs up from my doctor.

By the time the first anatomy scan came around, though, I started to lose hope that we would be getting clearance for midwife care. Isla was still measuring two weeks behind and was in the 14th percentile. I wasn't concerned as everything else was looking textbook perfect, but my doctor wasn't thrilled. "Your baby is tiny and we will just have to watch her," she said. She also said that she was not comfortable giving her approval for us pursuing a home birth, and went on to say that she wanted me to start coming to weekly appointments with biophysical profile scans bi-weekly.

I was completely crushed.

After the very first appointment where the term IUGR was thrown around (intrauterine growth restriction), Luke and I began to lay hands on my belly and pray over Isla every single night. We asked God to perform a miracle and grow her body perfectly, with all organs working and all bones growing just as they should. We prayed that she would be the exact weight she was supposed to be, and that we would still have the opportunity for a peaceful home birth. I felt a little sheepish asking God to grant us the latter, but ultimately I was really wrestling with the posture of my prayer life in general: do I pray from a place of fear, or do I pray from a place of faith? I tried my best to let this question be the litmus test for where my heart stood when making requests before the Lord.

The Birth:

When we hit 38 weeks, Isla was measuring below the 5th percentile. This was a two point drop since the last BPP scan we had about two weeks before (we began having BPP's once a week starting at 30 weeks as she was trending down; at 35/36 weeks she had maintained 7th percentile and our doctor gave us a week off from scans). It was actually just happenstance that we had a BPP at this particular appointment, but it was by God's grace that we did. Otherwise, we would not have known that her size had dropped into the IUGR worry territory.

"She is below 5th percentile and needs to come out. Let's talk about how you want to do that," said my doctor. After making my case to let me go until 39 weeks (she wanted me to be induced the next day), she agreed that I could come in the following Sunday evening and get checked in, which was only 3 days later. The plan would be to break my water the following morning around 10 a.m. and hope that would kick start me into labor. I still wanted to have zero to little intervention, and the water breaking was the compromise.

Luke and I left that appointment with a deep, profound peace. Truly, a peace that surpassed all our understanding. We had been told week after week that there was cause for concern, but I just knew within my soul that Isla was okay. I was having the most vivid dreams starting a few weeks before that last appointment where I labored and gave birth at home. In the dreams, everything was so peaceful - dim lights, the warmth of the water in the bath tub, the Christian hypnobirthing tracks playing in the back ground, Isla coming into the world and me experiencing zero pain... the most vivid dreams. I would wake up and tell Luke about them with a straight face and in full confidence that our delivery with Isla was going to be beyond what we could hope for, I just didn't know how wild it would actually be!

We checked into admitting that Sunday night at midnight (what a terrible time to ask a mother to come in when labor is imminent, by the way) and started the prophylactic antibiotic treatment as I was group B positive (I have thoughts on this, but I'll save for another time). There we were, 1 a.m., exhausted, nervous, trying our best to get some rest for what would be a big day ahead of us. Between the beeping of the IV pump and the hospital staff in and out through the night we pretty much kissed the chance of rest goodbye.

After a night of just watching the numbers change on the clock, 10 a.m. was about to hit. At that point, our friend/doula had arrived which brought a much needed distraction. I was so glad to have her there - I am a big, big fan of having at least one friend with you during a birth! We hired her primarily to be our advocate when dealing with the hospital staff; our experience with our first born had left a pretty sour taste in our mouth, and we were so thankful to have Alysse with us this time around. Our doctor came in, broke my water just as we planned, and then we started to wait.

I was hopeful that breaking my water would sling shot me into labor. That is essentially what happened with my other children - water broke, boom, labor, boom, birth. I am talking within just a few hours from start to finish. As 30 minutes turned into an hour and things weren't picking up I started to become discouraged. Wait, is my body not ready for labor? Is this going to be a 24 hour ordeal? Am I going to have an emergency c-section? Worries and doubt started to swirl and with every negative thought I could feel my body physically clamming up.

I looked around the room and became so overstimulated by all the beeps and cords and things just overall not looking the way they had in my dreams. I could feel my face getting hot and started to become irritable. "I need to chill out. I need to chill out. I am so in my head, I need to just chill out." I'm not sure how many time I said this as I paced back and forth in the room, sweet Alysse and Luke both being so patient and encouraging. Contractions were happening but not the kind that made me feel that things were about to get intense.

"You need to go sit in the bathroom by yourself and take a minute," Luke said. I took his advice and went and sat on the commode, hoping that it would live up to its name, the 'dilation station'. I sat there and prayed silently to myself, asking the Holy Spirit to really snatch the wheels out of my hand, kick me out of the drivers seat, and take over. I repeated the same prayer over and over: God, you are here. You made me for this. I am strong. You love Isla more than I do. At some point I had a really strong contraction, strong enough to where my breathing caused Luke to come in and check on me. He knelt in front of me and let me lay my head on his shoulder. The exhaustion from a sleepless night hit me like a train and I told Luke that I didn't think I had it in me to take on the day. Ever the cheerleader, he reminded me that the stronger the contraction, the closer we were to meeting Isla.

We sat there for a bit longer until I wanted to get up and walk around. I went back to the bed to get on all fours because the contractions were getting stronger and I needed some relief for my back. I stayed there as long as I could and finally told Luke and Alysse that I wanted to get in the shower. I wanted to hold off using the shower for as long as I could because I knew once I got in there I would not want to leave. They both thought it was a great idea, and off we went. Alysse set up towels for me to kneel on and put the birthing ball in front of me. I leaned over the ball as Luke took the shower head and moved the water across my lower back. Alysse had also plugged my little diffuser into the wall, which was also a little light. She set the light setting to a low blue, started diffusing the frankincense I brought, and pulled the door nearly shut.

Apart from the sound of the shower, it was so quiet. So peaceful. I was completely relaxed, meeting each contraction with total surrender. I wasn't worried about the level of intensity they brought, unlike my previous births. As they came, I focused on keeping my palms open and relaxed, literally facing upwards in a posture of surrender. I wasn't sure how long we had been in there (Luke later told me about 40 minutes), but the contractions were not back to back - strong, but not telling me that transition was imminent. I had a really good contraction, a 5 minute break, another good contraction, a three minute break, and then a contraction that felt very different. This one felt as though it had pulled power from every muscle fiber in my pelvis and lower back and was trying to channel it all through my groin.

I reached my hand down between my legs just to check on things, and low and behold, I felt Isla's head. I let out a low groan, which made Alysse and Luke lean forward to check on me. Alysse took her little flashlight, saw that my hand was holding Isla's head, and told Luke, "The baby is coming! Get ready to catch her!". Before Luke could even hop in front of me, I had another contraction, and Isla was born. I caught her, immediately checked to make sure the cord was not wrapped around her neck, held her out in front of me, and just started laughing!

There we were, the three of us on the bathroom floor. Me, Luke and Isla. She was perfect (no growth restriction, a beautiful 6 lb 9 oz little lady). I held her close and just bawled my eyes out as Luke put his arm around me and cried, too. It wasn't the peaceful home birth I had been dreaming of, but it was a peaceful, pain free, unassisted birth that happened in a way that only God could have put together.

Thinking back on that surreal moment is hard to take in, even now, 8 months later. God had something bigger and better for us than we could have dreamt up for ourselves. The valley that we walked through, all the questions, all the concerns surrounding her health, all home birth plans that had to be let go, all the shame I struggled with in believing my body was failing our daughter... it was through the valley that He brought us closer to Him. It was through the valley that Luke and I grew closer together. It was through the valley that we got to invite our family and friends in to pray with us, to pray over us, to pray over Isla's life. It was through the valley that we got to experience a depth of richness in God's love for us that was beyond anything we had experienced before.

I believe without a doubt God performed a miracle in Isla. All glory and honor to His name.

If you have made it this far, and are in a season of worry, or maybe you are looking at birthing plans needing to change for one reason or another: I want to encourage you to stand firm in your faith. Remain steadfast. I believe the enemy fights extra hard in the days leading up to a baby being born. I have always felt that the veil between Heaven and earth is the thinnest when new life enters the world - every birth is a miracle.

God has known your baby and your birth story since the beginning of time and He has always promised to be with you every step of the way, even when the story looks different from the one you wrote for yourself. All we can do is kneel before Him, open handed with our hearts desires, and trust Him when He gently takes those desires and promises to do all things for our good according to His will.

You have been made strong.

You have been made for this.

You are amazing.

All of this because He said so.

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