My husband said a few weeks ago that I was about to receive my lifelong dream. He was corrected by someone saying that he was my lifelong dream. Actually, he was right. The one thing I've wanted, for as long as I could remember, was to be a mother. I realised at one point along the way that to be a godly young woman, a husband would need to come first, but at that point in my thinking, he would be the means to an end - namely, a baby. I'd seen many marriages, many unhappy marriages. It wasn't until I was almost 16 years old that I got to see, firsthand, a truly happy marriage. Mr. and Mrs B are truly happily married, and they show it to everyone they come in contact with. I am so blessed that God brought them into my life! It was at that point that I started thinking that I might like to be married.
A year and a half later I met my husband. We quickly became good friends. We would sit and talk for hours after church, completely losing track of the passing time. There were a few times that I thought about the possibility of our friendship turning into more, but would dismiss it each time. Four months after I met him, my family moved out of state. We kept in touch with phone calls, and I always went to his church when I went back to visit my sister who had stayed in the area. After the second visit back, we decided to go the next step and start dating.
It didn't take long for us both to come to the point where we knew we wanted to get married, and nine months after we started dating, we said "I do". (Actually, for our vows, it was "I will", but you get the picture) That was when I received not my lifelong dream, but the extra blessing that God had in store for me that I was pleasantly surprised with. I'd married my best friend! Four years later came my lifelong dream.
I am so glad that God has given me so much! If I try to count my blessings, I'm overwhelmed by the sheer number of wonderful things that He continues to give me every day.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Trusting God
Sometimes it's hard to see why things are happening the way they are. It's hard to see loved ones suffering through hard times, whether that is with finances, health, emotions, or any other circumstances. We can be so tempted to ask "Why?"
Right now, I have one good friend who is struggling with physical hardships, one struggling with finances, one struggling with a relationship, and probably many others going through similar things. I find it difficult at times, especially when I'm asked for help, or for prayers, or for advice. Having someone ask for your counsel can be absolutely nerve-wracking! Knowing that what you say can be influencing another for either good or bad, and wanting desperately to say the right thing, but hearing it come out all jumbled is torture. All I can do is ask God's help, and hope that everything comes out properly.
As I was pondering this, my son was rather fussy. He was wanting to eat again, although it had been only half an hour since he'd last eaten. Knowing that if I fed him again that soon it would all come back up, I made him wait until an hour had passed. During that time, I rocked him, bounced him, sang to him, cuddled him, and tried everything I could to keep him content. Nothing worked for long. He would remember that he was hungry, and start to fuss again.
The comparisons struck me! Here's a little baby, not understanding what is best for him, just knowing what he's wanting, and having to rely on me to do what is best for him. And here we are, sinful human beings, not truly knowing what is best for us, but knowing what we think is best, and having to rely on our Almighty Heavenly Father to do what is best for us. Can we sit back and relax, knowing that our God knows what is best for us, and be content that He will accomplish that? Or will we be like my newborn son, constantly demanding that He give us what we're wanting, no matter whether it's good for us or not?
My prayer is that I can remember to rest in the comforting arms of my Savior, knowing that when the time is right, I will be "fed". He will do for me what is best. I am, after all, His child.
Right now, I have one good friend who is struggling with physical hardships, one struggling with finances, one struggling with a relationship, and probably many others going through similar things. I find it difficult at times, especially when I'm asked for help, or for prayers, or for advice. Having someone ask for your counsel can be absolutely nerve-wracking! Knowing that what you say can be influencing another for either good or bad, and wanting desperately to say the right thing, but hearing it come out all jumbled is torture. All I can do is ask God's help, and hope that everything comes out properly.
As I was pondering this, my son was rather fussy. He was wanting to eat again, although it had been only half an hour since he'd last eaten. Knowing that if I fed him again that soon it would all come back up, I made him wait until an hour had passed. During that time, I rocked him, bounced him, sang to him, cuddled him, and tried everything I could to keep him content. Nothing worked for long. He would remember that he was hungry, and start to fuss again.
The comparisons struck me! Here's a little baby, not understanding what is best for him, just knowing what he's wanting, and having to rely on me to do what is best for him. And here we are, sinful human beings, not truly knowing what is best for us, but knowing what we think is best, and having to rely on our Almighty Heavenly Father to do what is best for us. Can we sit back and relax, knowing that our God knows what is best for us, and be content that He will accomplish that? Or will we be like my newborn son, constantly demanding that He give us what we're wanting, no matter whether it's good for us or not?
My prayer is that I can remember to rest in the comforting arms of my Savior, knowing that when the time is right, I will be "fed". He will do for me what is best. I am, after all, His child.
Friday, January 14, 2011
My miracle baby is here!
Everything started with my first induction on Sunday, December 26th. After having the cervadil in overnight, and 3 hours on the pitocin Monday morning, it was decided that I wasn’t progressing enough to continue, so got sent home with the appointment to come back to try again on Thursday evening. So, I went home, tried walking, rocking, eating spicy food, etc., but nothing came of it except for losing little bits of plug. Wednesday and Thursday I did drop some, so was hopeful that this time would work.
Thursday evening, my husband got home from work, we ate dinner, then left for the hospital. We got there around 6:30, and I was put on the monitors. Around 8, they decided it was time to put the cervadil in again, and hooked up an IV. Now I had to lie there for 2 hours before I could even go to the bathroom. Almost immediately the cramping started, so I was pretty sure it was going to work this time. Around 9, the nurse came in and started the antibiotics for the GBS. She said the Dr didn’t want me to quickly progress and not have the antibiotics long enough. I started feeling really sick, and by 9:30, was counting the minutes till I could get up. I wasn’t going to be allowed to really walk around or anything, but just getting out of bed was going to be such a relief! My hips were really hurting, and the sickyness and cramping were getting really bad! I tried to get some sleep, but finally, at 10:30, I decided it was time to go potty.
I sat up in bed, to feel a gush of warm. I called the nurse and told her that I’d either just wet myself, or my water had broken. She told me to go to the bathroom, she’d change the bed, then check me. I stood up, and more dribbled out. As I walked around the foot of the bed I got the BIG whoosh – you know, the one they always show in the movies. There was a 3 foot diameter puddle on the floor. I looked at the nurse and said “I’m pretty sure that’s my water. I don’t think I have that much bladder capacity.” At that point, my husband woke up, and asked if everything was okay. I told him that I was breaking my water all over myself, and he got up to call all of the folks who had asked for a call once we knew something was happening.
More drooled out all the way to the toilet, then another little gush right in front of the toilet, and more as I peed. It was the strangest sensation ever, but at the same time, one of the neatest. I think it was that point that it was finally driven home that I was going to have a baby! Contractions started while I was on the toilet. They started coming hard and fast, and I had to focus on getting through them. The nurse brought me some towels to clean up with, while she cleaned up the floor and changed the bed. Then I went back to bed and she checked me. She was checking for dilation, at the same time going to pull out the cervadil. She couldn’t find the cervadil, we finally decided I must have flushed it. (ooops!) I was still just 1 cm, but had thinned out a bit. She then did the swab check to be sure it was my water that had broken, rather than just discharge or pee. The swab actually caused more water to rush out, so we were pretty sure that’s what it was, even before the test said it was. The nurse mentioned how good it was that they'd already started the antibiotics, and I agreed.
I was having contractions every 2 to 3 minutes, and thought the process was going to go really fast. I laid back down, knowing I would need my rest, I tried to sleep. It didn’t work well. Each contraction was pure agony. I was in excruciating pain, it felt like my back was going to rip in two pieces. My back still hurts just thinking of it. I started kicking my legs, curling up on my side clenching the rail on the side of the bed, and praying that God would help me get through each contraction. I finally woke my husband so that I could grip his hand too. That was a big help, but I still couldn’t imagine how my mom said this was no big deal. I knew I was in transition, cause I was in sooo much pain. The nurse came and checked me around 3, and said I was a 2. I knew at that point I was probably going to change my mind about the epidural. I’d been dead set against it because I react so strongly to meds, and didn’t want to chance having a reaction while in labor, and the thought of messing with my spinal cord is just scary to me.
I asked if there was anything else I could do for the pain. (I’m allergic to Nubain, so they’d given me morphine instead, but it was doing nothing for the pain, just making me foggy) She said the only other thing they could do was give me an epidural. I talked to my husband about it, he talked to the nurses, we decided to go ahead with it. It was still scary to me, but at that point relief was more important to me than avoiding the possibility of being paralyzed and/or going into shock from the meds. At 4, I had the epidural put in, and have never felt such instant relief! I was finally able to relax and sleep some, and sent my hubby back to bed too. Because the epidural had slowed my contractions, they started Pitocin to get things going again.
I’m not sure on the time for the rest of this, but after a couple of hours I was a four, then a five, then an hour later I was a 7! I looked at my husband and told him I was in transition, which was the last part before pushing! He asked the nurse how long she thought it would be, and she said she figured we’d have a baby by 3 that afternoon. I was so excited that I’d gone 2 cm in one hour, I was sure it would go faster than that.
It took me another hour to get to 8, then 2 hours to get to 9. I was starting to feel the contractions again, but worse than that was the urge to push. I was fighting this tremendous urge for at least 5 hours while waiting to get to 10 cm. The nurse kept coming to check me, and I finally told her I felt like I needed to push. She had me try to push past the last little lip of cervix, but said it didn’t seem like it was working, so I had to wait a little more. The pitocin was at the max dosage at that point, she talked to the Dr, who said to up it a little more. They put in the internal monitors, and we kept waiting. It was nice to finally have those belts off of my belly! However, I was getting impatient. I’d been lying in that bed for hours! I’d only been up a couple of times to potty between my water breaking and the epidural. After the epi was put in, I had a catheter put in since I couldn’t feel my legs, which made walking no longer an option.
Finally, it was shift change, and my nurse asked the new nurse to check me to see if she could still feel the cervix. Sure enough, I still had a lip all the way around. So, they called my Dr. She said it was likely that the baby was either facing the wrong direction – in which case they would turn him, or he was just too big – in which case it was c-section. So, because c-section was now a possibility out there in the open, I wasn’t allowed any more water. Bummer! It’d been over 24 hours since I’d had anything other than water, and had certainly been taking advantage of being allowed that.
My Dr came to see what she could see, and tried to turn the baby. She had her hand on his head, and asked if I wanted to try pushing. Did I ever! So, with the next 2 contractions I pushed for all I was worth. It was such a relief to go with the urges instead of holding back! It was almost a bigger relief than the epi. (Which by that point had worn off to the point I could feel my legs again, as well as the excruciating back pain with contractions!) She told me that although I’d done very well pushing, he hadn’t budged. She said that I had plenty of room, but his head was too big. He wasn’t going to fit.
So, off they all went to prep for surgery. I was slightly disappointed that I wouldn’t know the feeling of delivering a baby naturally, but knew that she wouldn’t lightly suggest surgery. I also knew that this would be what was best for baby and for me at this point. As the room cleared out, I mentioned to my wonderful husband that for some reason, this must be what was best for me and the baby. I said, "You know, he might have the cord around his neck, to the point that being born naturally would possibly be fatal to him."
They stopped the pitocin, and around 7 – 7:15 they wheeled me off to surgery. It was surreal laying there with the blue tent above my head, it was all I could see, except for the occasional purple gloved hand that reached in to push the tent a little further away from my face. I could feel pressure, sometimes a lot of pressure! Then, I heard my baby’s first cry! I started crying at that sound, it was the neatest sound I’ve ever heard! The Dr and nurses all started commenting on how he was huge, and such a big boy! Soon after, they held him up so I could look over to see him. What a sweet little boy! He was kind of messy, but the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! My husband told me that he started crying even before he was fully out. He also told me later, that the first thing the Dr had to do was unwrap the cord from around his head. While they were cleaning him up, he peed twice, and pooed before they could get a diaper on him. Everyone was laughing at how well he was showing them that all processes were in proper working order. So, they got me cleaned up, stitched up, handed me my little guy, and wheeled me back to the room. I was now counted in the ranks of Mother! 7:39 PM December 31st, after 20+ hours of labor, with 5+ hours of fighting to make it past 9 cm, and fighting the urge to push, my son was born!
8 pounds, 8 ounces, 21 inches long, with a head circumference of 14 1/2 inches, he’s perfect! My little miracle baby. I'd waited and prayed for this child for almost 5 years, and he's finally here. Now we're home, doing well, and I thank God for each day He has given me this child. My prayer now is that I can be the mother he needs me to be.
Thursday evening, my husband got home from work, we ate dinner, then left for the hospital. We got there around 6:30, and I was put on the monitors. Around 8, they decided it was time to put the cervadil in again, and hooked up an IV. Now I had to lie there for 2 hours before I could even go to the bathroom. Almost immediately the cramping started, so I was pretty sure it was going to work this time. Around 9, the nurse came in and started the antibiotics for the GBS. She said the Dr didn’t want me to quickly progress and not have the antibiotics long enough. I started feeling really sick, and by 9:30, was counting the minutes till I could get up. I wasn’t going to be allowed to really walk around or anything, but just getting out of bed was going to be such a relief! My hips were really hurting, and the sickyness and cramping were getting really bad! I tried to get some sleep, but finally, at 10:30, I decided it was time to go potty.
I sat up in bed, to feel a gush of warm. I called the nurse and told her that I’d either just wet myself, or my water had broken. She told me to go to the bathroom, she’d change the bed, then check me. I stood up, and more dribbled out. As I walked around the foot of the bed I got the BIG whoosh – you know, the one they always show in the movies. There was a 3 foot diameter puddle on the floor. I looked at the nurse and said “I’m pretty sure that’s my water. I don’t think I have that much bladder capacity.” At that point, my husband woke up, and asked if everything was okay. I told him that I was breaking my water all over myself, and he got up to call all of the folks who had asked for a call once we knew something was happening.
More drooled out all the way to the toilet, then another little gush right in front of the toilet, and more as I peed. It was the strangest sensation ever, but at the same time, one of the neatest. I think it was that point that it was finally driven home that I was going to have a baby! Contractions started while I was on the toilet. They started coming hard and fast, and I had to focus on getting through them. The nurse brought me some towels to clean up with, while she cleaned up the floor and changed the bed. Then I went back to bed and she checked me. She was checking for dilation, at the same time going to pull out the cervadil. She couldn’t find the cervadil, we finally decided I must have flushed it. (ooops!) I was still just 1 cm, but had thinned out a bit. She then did the swab check to be sure it was my water that had broken, rather than just discharge or pee. The swab actually caused more water to rush out, so we were pretty sure that’s what it was, even before the test said it was. The nurse mentioned how good it was that they'd already started the antibiotics, and I agreed.
I was having contractions every 2 to 3 minutes, and thought the process was going to go really fast. I laid back down, knowing I would need my rest, I tried to sleep. It didn’t work well. Each contraction was pure agony. I was in excruciating pain, it felt like my back was going to rip in two pieces. My back still hurts just thinking of it. I started kicking my legs, curling up on my side clenching the rail on the side of the bed, and praying that God would help me get through each contraction. I finally woke my husband so that I could grip his hand too. That was a big help, but I still couldn’t imagine how my mom said this was no big deal. I knew I was in transition, cause I was in sooo much pain. The nurse came and checked me around 3, and said I was a 2. I knew at that point I was probably going to change my mind about the epidural. I’d been dead set against it because I react so strongly to meds, and didn’t want to chance having a reaction while in labor, and the thought of messing with my spinal cord is just scary to me.
I asked if there was anything else I could do for the pain. (I’m allergic to Nubain, so they’d given me morphine instead, but it was doing nothing for the pain, just making me foggy) She said the only other thing they could do was give me an epidural. I talked to my husband about it, he talked to the nurses, we decided to go ahead with it. It was still scary to me, but at that point relief was more important to me than avoiding the possibility of being paralyzed and/or going into shock from the meds. At 4, I had the epidural put in, and have never felt such instant relief! I was finally able to relax and sleep some, and sent my hubby back to bed too. Because the epidural had slowed my contractions, they started Pitocin to get things going again.
I’m not sure on the time for the rest of this, but after a couple of hours I was a four, then a five, then an hour later I was a 7! I looked at my husband and told him I was in transition, which was the last part before pushing! He asked the nurse how long she thought it would be, and she said she figured we’d have a baby by 3 that afternoon. I was so excited that I’d gone 2 cm in one hour, I was sure it would go faster than that.
It took me another hour to get to 8, then 2 hours to get to 9. I was starting to feel the contractions again, but worse than that was the urge to push. I was fighting this tremendous urge for at least 5 hours while waiting to get to 10 cm. The nurse kept coming to check me, and I finally told her I felt like I needed to push. She had me try to push past the last little lip of cervix, but said it didn’t seem like it was working, so I had to wait a little more. The pitocin was at the max dosage at that point, she talked to the Dr, who said to up it a little more. They put in the internal monitors, and we kept waiting. It was nice to finally have those belts off of my belly! However, I was getting impatient. I’d been lying in that bed for hours! I’d only been up a couple of times to potty between my water breaking and the epidural. After the epi was put in, I had a catheter put in since I couldn’t feel my legs, which made walking no longer an option.
Finally, it was shift change, and my nurse asked the new nurse to check me to see if she could still feel the cervix. Sure enough, I still had a lip all the way around. So, they called my Dr. She said it was likely that the baby was either facing the wrong direction – in which case they would turn him, or he was just too big – in which case it was c-section. So, because c-section was now a possibility out there in the open, I wasn’t allowed any more water. Bummer! It’d been over 24 hours since I’d had anything other than water, and had certainly been taking advantage of being allowed that.
My Dr came to see what she could see, and tried to turn the baby. She had her hand on his head, and asked if I wanted to try pushing. Did I ever! So, with the next 2 contractions I pushed for all I was worth. It was such a relief to go with the urges instead of holding back! It was almost a bigger relief than the epi. (Which by that point had worn off to the point I could feel my legs again, as well as the excruciating back pain with contractions!) She told me that although I’d done very well pushing, he hadn’t budged. She said that I had plenty of room, but his head was too big. He wasn’t going to fit.
So, off they all went to prep for surgery. I was slightly disappointed that I wouldn’t know the feeling of delivering a baby naturally, but knew that she wouldn’t lightly suggest surgery. I also knew that this would be what was best for baby and for me at this point. As the room cleared out, I mentioned to my wonderful husband that for some reason, this must be what was best for me and the baby. I said, "You know, he might have the cord around his neck, to the point that being born naturally would possibly be fatal to him."
They stopped the pitocin, and around 7 – 7:15 they wheeled me off to surgery. It was surreal laying there with the blue tent above my head, it was all I could see, except for the occasional purple gloved hand that reached in to push the tent a little further away from my face. I could feel pressure, sometimes a lot of pressure! Then, I heard my baby’s first cry! I started crying at that sound, it was the neatest sound I’ve ever heard! The Dr and nurses all started commenting on how he was huge, and such a big boy! Soon after, they held him up so I could look over to see him. What a sweet little boy! He was kind of messy, but the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! My husband told me that he started crying even before he was fully out. He also told me later, that the first thing the Dr had to do was unwrap the cord from around his head. While they were cleaning him up, he peed twice, and pooed before they could get a diaper on him. Everyone was laughing at how well he was showing them that all processes were in proper working order. So, they got me cleaned up, stitched up, handed me my little guy, and wheeled me back to the room. I was now counted in the ranks of Mother! 7:39 PM December 31st, after 20+ hours of labor, with 5+ hours of fighting to make it past 9 cm, and fighting the urge to push, my son was born!
8 pounds, 8 ounces, 21 inches long, with a head circumference of 14 1/2 inches, he’s perfect! My little miracle baby. I'd waited and prayed for this child for almost 5 years, and he's finally here. Now we're home, doing well, and I thank God for each day He has given me this child. My prayer now is that I can be the mother he needs me to be.
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