My Father in heaven never ceases to amaze me.
On June 20th, I was again reminded of His goodness, His love and the perfection of His creation.
God has remarkably designed everything in this earth, including our bodies, a woman’s body in particular.
This third pregnancy has been grueling. Admittedly, I know of women who have had more difficult pregnancies than mine. I was lucky enough to not have to deal with hyperemesis, which is basically morning sickness on steroids. But overall it had been a miserable 40 weeks and two days. I’ve never in my life dealt with so much gastrointestinal disruption, fatigue, aches and pains, and just overall physical misery. I had been counting the days down until June 18th for several months as my life was relegated to days spent in bed doing nothing, going nowhere, too tired to do much of anything.
To my dismay, June 18th came and went, and I prepared myself for the possibility of my third induced labor on June 25th. I was not happy about that prospect. I wanted a natural labor. As crazy as it sounds, I wanted to know what it was like to have my body labor on its own without the necessity of drugs.
I had been staying with my mom for a couple of weeks while Matt was working overnight. On June 20th, I was awakened out of my already sparse sleep by contractions at around 6:28 a.m. I had been having contractions for several weeks already, so I thought little of them, but something told me to text my husband and ask him to come to Mom’s house instead of going home. I told him I was contracting pretty badly. He came over and the contractions continued.
While he attempted to get a bit of sleep, I called the midwife office, concerned that I was not timing the contractions correctly, as I had never had that happen before. Seeing as that I was overdue, they had me immediately call labor and delivery at the hospital. They gave me instructions: Drink water to make sure the contractions were not due to dehydration, and wait until they were five minutes apart for an hour.
I ate a light breakfast, took cat naps, watched some television, and when the contractions got stronger got into the jacuzzi bathtub. At 1:45 the contractions began coming every five minutes and I knew it was not a drill. We headed up to the hospital at about 2:50. I was in a pretty good amount of pain and the ride there was no help in our little hot car that maximized the impact of every single bump in our terrible Michigan roads.
Once there, I was taken to a small room where I had to leave a urine sample and change into a gown. A bunch of different nurses and…whomever (I didn’t care at that point) came in and checked me for dilation. I was approximately seven centimeters, so it was time. Even then I couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. But it was.
I was taken to an actual labor and delivery room. That is where the magic happened. It was 4:05 p.m. I began contracting rapidly and through the pain barely cared as an IV was placed and blood was drawn. I remember the faces of the women attending to me but not their names. At one point, I was offered morphine, but then after being checked again was told I should not have it because my baby would not recover in time because I was so close to delivery. I declined pain meds.
I felt the baby moving down further and further into my birth canal, and the midwife for whatever reasons had left the room. The other staff encouraged me NOT to bear down before the midwife got back into the room, but I had no choice. That baby was coming out. I knew the feeling–I had experienced it twice before. And my body was pushing her out. I felt the overwhelming need to push and did–my water broke. I gave it my best–one mighty push got her head out, and one more push expelled her little 8 pound, 0.9 ounce body. She was placed on me for skin to skin contact and I got to look and marvel at her. She was…she IS…beautiful. Just like my other two kids. Head full of hair.
I am so thankful to God that He saw fit to allow me to bring forth three babies, safe and sound with no problems. I interacted with women on my birth board who had lost their babies or had babies born with problems. I prayed for them all. And that makes me even more thankful to God that all three of my babies are okay, because I know God didn’t have to make it that way.
I’m healing okay and Junebug is thriving. I am so proud of her. I am proud of myself. I am proud of my husband. I am very proud of the family we have made together. And I am very happy that I am beginning to feel like a person and not a zombie anymore. I have been neglectful of a lot of things the past few months–I haven’t been as active with my kids, my house has not been as clean as I would have liked, I haven’t been going many places, I haven’t been on this blog, I have done absolutely no writing on my manuscript that I could have had done by now (the one about abuse in a Christian marriage). That all is about to change as I get better.
But I can say this with confidence…
All those struggles were 100% worth it. I’d do it all over again to get another Jayla.