I’ve had many posts I’ve wanted to share on my blog but I have refused to write anything until I write about my delivery of the most precious little girl I’ve ever met, Arianna.
After doing months of prenatal Pilates work out videos, gaining just the right amount of pounds during pregnancy, and being incredibly informed about pregnancy due to my background as a nurse, I thought I was tough, intelligent, and ready for anything. What I found out I really was that what I was filled with was pride.
My water broke around 7pm at a friend’s house and I was barricaded in the bathroom not sure what to do. (awkward) When Ben was able to come to my rescue he asked “what do you need?” which was comical because really I had no clue.
My contractions didn’t begin when my water broke, so I was nervous they would induce and start an epidural. But around 8:30 the contractions started. From 8pm to 2am is much of a blur, but I can remembering the contractions started hard and fast and never let up. My whole goal of the delivery was to avoid the epidural. I convinced myself this was because a natural deli every was what is best for the baby, but really on the inside I’m sure it was so I could brag about how tough I was without one. Ben didn’t want me to get one either, but his reasoning was so we could avoid a c-section as it often epidurals slow down the delivery and make c-sections more of a possibility. So at 2am when I couldn’t take it anymore and I asked for the epidural, and I overwhelmingly felt like a failure. After the epidural my BP dropped, the baby’s heart rate subsequently went low, and there was some controlled panic from the hospital staff. In addition, sometime during the night I spiked a temperature, which needed to resolve or a C-section would be more imminent. After my vital signs calmed down, Ben and I were left to ourselves. I could have enjoyed this time of relief as the pain was now subsided, but instead I found myself in a mess of tears. I was still consumed with my own pride, saddened that I wasn’t tough enough to do this on my own. Everyone around me told me to be pleased that I took on the contractions for six hours victoriously without the epidural, but I couldn’t find the consolation in that since I didn’t make it all the way.
Around 10am came my first round of pushing. This is when we found out Arianna was sunny side up meaning she was looking up towards the skies instead of down to the ground. I knew at this point we were in battle. She was not going to come out easily and the dreaded c section was not looking more real than ever before. But by 2:09pm she came into this world and Ben and I were overwhelmed with joy. We didn’t expect a girl, we were both ready for a boy, but within seconds we knew we would never have had it otherwise. The doctor told me I was a champion pusher and at the time I think my pride was pleased to hear such a compliment, but now I know better and that it was the Lord who gave me the strength to push.
After coming home and experiencing mother’s boot camp (that’s what the first 2 weeks of postpartum can be likened to with all the physical, mental, and spiritual rigors) I had some time to look back and reflect on the whole experience. What I realized is that the Lord took me through this battle to humble me and to show me His goodness.
Now if I look back I can see God’s invisible hand working continuously throughout the night.
#1 God had the contractions begin on their own, without an induction.
#2 God had my fever resolve on its own with no human intervention.
#3 God prevented any complications from my BP dropping.
#4 God gave me the strength to push Arianna out without forceps or a c-section.
Looking back on it all and despite how difficult it was, I wouldn’t have changed anything because of the valuable lessons I learned. My good friend Shona asked me to tell her my battle story. Now in retelling it I realize, it was a battle and that the battle belongs to the Lord.
