What a Difference a Delivery Makes!
Well, it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me, and the reason for all the delay is finally here. I have a beautiful 2-week-old daughter! I thought I’d wander back into the world of blogging by sharing a little bit about the experience of bringing her into the world. Not the gross bits, but the bits where I have truly seen God at work over the last two weeks.
Let’s start with context: My pregnancy with my first daughter didn’t seem all that difficult, but the labor and delivery were extremely difficult. She and I both had several complications – my BP skyrocketed, she wasn’t doing well unless I was on oxygen, the epidural didn’t actually work when combined with the pitocin I was given, I couldn’t hold her right away and she had to stay in the nursery for the first 24 hours except for feedings, and several other issues also occurred. I didn’t know any different at the time, but I would guess now that based on the differences in my experience and recovery, she and I were a lot more messed up than I knew at the time. I had quite a few weeks of significant pain, and I felt emotionally overwhelmed and depressed for quite a while.
So, after a more tiresome pregnancy this time, I really wasn’t looking forward to labor and delivery. However, I was hopeful that things would go more smoothly since my BP had been under control. Whether I was ready or not, my contractions started at 12:30 a.m. on October 4th. Unfortunately, they stayed about 7 minutes apart and didn’t really get any stronger (other than to keep me awake) until morning arrived. I started to feel anxious, since contractions that wouldn’t go anywhere was a characteristic of my first time around.
I called the doctor at 7 a.m. to get his decision on what to do. He advised us to go to the hospital to get checked out. We reached the hospital about 9 a.m. with everything still about the same. They put us in a room to make a determination, and the nurse was pretty sure that we would be going home again. I was very disappointed, but trying to wait on God’s timing for it all. In the meantime, they took my BP and declared it a little high. The nurse went to call my doctor to find out what he wanted to do (did I mention he was out of town for the weekend?). I was torn. I didn’t want to be sent home. I was so ready to have this baby. On the other hand, high BP would likely lead us down all the same roads we went down before and I really wasn’t sure I was going to be able to handle it.
Now, here’s where I saw God work. The doctor decided to admit me because of my history with the BP problem. If labor and delivery hadn’t happened before he got back to town that evening, he planned to move things along (which, again, would have meant a delivery like last time, with pitocin). But miraculously, once I was admitted, my BP dropped and never went back up. Additionally, my labor started progressing on its own. In fact, once I got the epidural, not only did it work (blissfully!), but things started happening very quickly – quickly enough that I delivered my little girl 45 minutes before my doctor showed up. Thankfully, the doctor on call was also excellent. He actually had me laughing through the delivery, which was something I never would have expected after last time. No pain, laughter, and a beautiful girl that I was allowed to hold and bond with immediately from the beginning.
Two weeks out, I am so thankful for how God saved me from my fear of a repeat of the first process. And, if my BP hadn’t been up when they first checked it, they would have sent me home, even though it was clearly meant to be my girl’s birthday. I also am doing significantly better physically and emotionally this time. Hurray! It may seem like such small things, or maybe coincidences to others, but it has been nothing short of a miracle to me. Thanks for listening.