When my alarm began blaring at 5:20 am on January 21, 2004; I immediately hit the snooze button. I am normally a morning person, but the last few weeks of my pregnancy were beyond exhausting. As I reluctantly climbed in the shower I purposefully avoided the mirror. I really didn’t want to catch a glimpse of my giant whale body. I had stopped feeling like a ‘cute pregnant lady’ long ago. My feet where still swollen from the night before; I noticed my sock indention from the previous day’s work.

I was lucky. My pregnancy was healthy and had gone quite smoothly, with the exception of one small hiccup: at 32 weeks I learned that my son was breech, and he never flipped. My c-section was scheduled for 39 weeks. If I am completely honest with you, I was more afraid of a vaginal delivery than a c-section. A small part of me was slightly relieved that things would be nicely scheduled and I would never have to face all the drama of labor.

My parents had their plane tickets to Ohio. It would all happen in 2 more days.

I was in my OB/GYN residency training during my pregnancy. I worked 80 hours a week, often 12 to 14 hour days. Residency was challenging enough when you weren’t carrying around 50 pounds of extra baby weight and having to pee every 5 minutes. However this was my final day of work. Tomorrow I would take an exam, then the baby would be here on Saturday. It was surreal to know exactly when the baby would come. I couldn’t wait to meet baby Ryan (we didn’t know if it was a boy or girl, but the name was to be Ryan either way).

My last day at work was not an easy one. I was assisting with several surgeries and it was during the first case that the headache started. As the afternoon progressed, I started seeing little spots. I knew these were the sign of preeclampsia, so I stopped by labor and delivery to have my blood pressure checked. It was dangerously high. I wanted to go home and get my things, but my fellow residents insisted I stay and get blood work. “Really, I’ll be fine” I said. I had no insight. Intellectually I realized I had preeclampsia, and shouldn’t leave the hospital when my blood pressure was sky high, but it didn’t compute emotionally. It was strange. There was also an element of denial at play. This could not be happening to me.

I had seen patients act this way many times and assumed they were non-compliant. I realize now when patients have an irrational response to an emergency that it is likely denial more than ignorance. So often we spend so much time picturing and planning how our special day is supposed to happen that when things go awry, it zaps the wind from our sails and leaves us stunned in disbelief.

My doctor arrived and decided the c-section should be done immediately and a magnesium drip would be started to treat the preeclampsia and help control my blood pressure. I attempted to argue that I really didn’t need it. Magnesium was a miserable drug. She just glared at me, “Of course you are getting magnesium.” I took a deep breath and complied.

On the Other Side of the Knife

 After several blubbering phone calls to friends and family, they set me up for delivery. My mom didn’t get to be there, but my husband and friends (fellow residents) were there to support me.

As they wheeled me into the cold OR, I realized I was terrified of the “unknown” despite doing hundreds of c-sections myself. As I lay strapped to the OR table, I felt vulnerable and afraid. It was so awkward to be on the other side of the knife. As the surgery got underway, though I felt more calm;  comforted by the familiar sounds of the instruments and operating room banter.

As he was born, the entire room cheered. “It’s a boy” someone said. My husband and I were overwhelmed with joy.

As the doctor held him up over the blue sheet for me to see him, I remember thinking that he looked blue and they should really get him to the warmer. Myself, my husband and my friends (who we’re running various cameras) we’re all crying and cheering. It was an amazing day.

As I held him in recovery and nursed him for the first time, I remember thinking how incredibly blessed I was. I couldn’t believe how deeply I could love this sweet little boy. What an amazing gift.

Holding my little Guy for the First Time

What is or was your biggest fear about delivery?

I got in the car to drive to the hospital then suddenly realized that I had forgotten my camera. As I searched the house for my Canon, I laughed. How often am I  the one bringing a camera to the delivery? But this wasn’t just any birth.

This was Becky’s baby.

We have a unique friendship.

We had trained together in Ohio. Working side by side, often up to 90 grueling hours per week, we learned the essentials of obstetrics and formed a friendship along the way. Then I coaxed her to Tennessee 6 years ago to join our practice.

She was there at my son Ryan’s birth 8 years ago, acting as the official photographer.  Now, I got to deliver her much anticipated first baby.

My face hurt from grinning all the way to the hospital. I was finally going to find out if this baby was a boy or girl.

As I drove in, I remembered the day that she found out she was pregnant. We had an office full of patients, so I took her in an exam room room for some privacy to tell her the news.

“Your pregnant!” I said.

She began screaming and jumping up and down. Not bouncing, not hopping, I’m talking full fledged tuck jumps with 2 feet of vertical leap.

We jumped and screamed and laughed and cried for about 5 minutes. Then we composed ourselves and attempted to exit the exam room and pretend to be all ‘doctory’ again.

We didn’t fool anyone. The insulation in our office is not that good so everyone had heard our screaming and figured out the good news.

But that’s Becky, she gets so excited about things. It’s so fun to watch her open presents. At her shower, she would exclaim, “Oh, wow! bottles! These are awesome, I love them!”  One would have thought she was getting a diamond ring,  but her enthusiasm is sincere.

As I arrived at the hospital, she was walking the halls as she labored. Smiling and laughing in between contractions. I was here as her friend, who happened to also be her doctor.

Was I nervous? Honestly, yes, a little.

Luckily, everything went perfectly.

When she got to 10 centimeters, she pushed (only 3 times!).  As the baby crowned, we could see tons of thick, curly brown hair.

The baby began to cry immediately. I held her up and took a peek between the squirmy legs.

“It’s a girl!!!” I said.  The moment was surreal.

Then I placed her in her momma’s arms, and dad cut the chewy cord.

Tears were flowing around the room. Mom, dad, grandma, aunt and the nurses were all blubbering.

I might have shed a few myself.

“She’s so cute and perfect!” everyone kept saying. I totally agreed.

Once again, I stood in awe of the miracle of life. My heart was bursting with joy for my sweet friend and her precious gift. I was so honored to be a part of her most perfect moment.

I have delivered thousands of babies, honestly very few do I specifically remember.  This one though,  I will never forget.

{UPDATE} CONGRATULATIONS TO TIFFANY FROM amomentcherished.blogspot.com for winning a copy of The Pregnancy Companion book. Email me your address and we’ll get it out. Enjoy!

I’ve decided I’m deeming this “Miracle May.” It’s Pregnancy Awareness Month (and all pregnancies and births are truly a miracle), it’s Mother’s Day (and for many of us, the fact we get to celebrate one is a great miracle), and it’s the month my very first miracle baby (Hope) was born. There’s so much to celebrate! And so. . .I can’t think of a better birth story to share than this one. What an amazing reminder that miracles happen when we least expect them! If you are currently believing for a miracle of your own, I pray this story encourages your heart.

Enjoy Lori’s story and don’t miss another book giveaway at the end of this post! We’ve got several blogs joining us this week to give away copies of The Pregnancy Companion in honor of Mother’s Day! If you are not currently pregnant or trying to conceive, enter to win one for a friend. It makes a great Mother’s Day gift!

Andrew’s Birth Story – Lori Lawrence

OK, I know what you are thinking… “Every pregnancy and baby is a miracle!” Well, yes, you are right. But when I think of my experience it is absolutely nothing short of a miracle. When my husband Ryan and I got married, like many young couples, we thought we would enjoy being newlyweds for a few years, then when the time was right we would banish the birth control, get pregnant, have a baby or two and live happily ever after. Oh, if it were only that simple!!

After five years of marriage and three years of trying we had two miscarriages and no children. The doctors wanted to run all sorts of invasive tests just to find out what was wrong. Then, if anything was possible, we would go through even more procedures to fix the problem. In other words: a lot of tests and no guarantees. We didn’t know what we wanted to do, but we knew we didn’t want to become guinea pigs. Just a few days later Ryan told me of some friends who wanted us as references for their adoption. As soon as the word “adoption” came out of his mouth, we both knew, that is what we were supposed to do. Two years later we adopted our beautiful son Ian and lived happily ever after, until….

Six years later, we were tucking Ian into bed and out of the blue he asked, “When can I have a brother or sister?” We were surprised and not exactly sure what to tell him. We had talked of adopting again, but never really felt it was the right time. So, we told our son maybe he should pray about it. He said, “ok” and we didn’t think much about it until…wouldn’t you know it…three months later, at the age of 36, I was late!!!

But this time was different. Everything seemed like a miracle. My two previous pregnancies never made it long enough to hear a heartbeat. Not only did we get to see and hear the heartbeat but EVERYTHING was NORMAL!! Every time we heard the words “normal” and “perfect” I cried. Every time we got to hear his heartbeat, I cried. Every time we had an ultrasound and we could see our little guy move and jump, I cried. Hormones and happiness are a dangerous combination.

The only small issue I had was developing gestational diabetes. Due to this, my doctor wanted to induce me two weeks before my due date. Everything inside me said, “NO, I want the baby to come on his own time.” The doctor would just smile and say “It’s what we need to do”. Every appointment was the same. She would tell me we were going to induce and I would tell her as sweetly as I could how I really didn’t like the idea.

Three weeks before I was due, I went in for my weekly check up. She asked if I had been having any contractions or labor pains. I said I hadn’t so she informed me again I would need to be induced the next week. When she was doing her exam, she looked up in shock and said, “Well, I guess you get your wish! You are already dilated to four and 80% effaced!!” This was Tuesday and on the following Saturday night, we went to church, out to dinner with the family and then home to go to bed. Ryan was asleep and I was sitting with him in bed watching TV just about to call it a night. At 12:30 on Sunday morning I thought I felt some slight cramping. I went to the bathroom, came back and sat on the bed to see if it would happen again. It did, so I looked at the time and waited. Exactly five minutes later it happened again! I woke up Ryan and told him I thought I was having contractions. He jumped out of bed as if I had jolted him with a cattle prod. He raced to the hospital all while I’m trying to tell him to slow down! After all, these things take time. Of course, he felt this was the one time he got to run red lights drive as fast as he wanted.

We arrived at the hospital in one piece and actually got lost looking for the nurses’ station on the maternity floor. When we finally found it, I told them I thought I was in labor. I found out later when my parents showed up, they told my mom and dad that I was not in labor because I was walking and talking.

The nurse who was checking me in was very calm and asking me all sorts of questions. She finally decided to see how far along I could possibly be. She had the same shocked look on her face as my doctor did the Tuesday before. She sat up and said I was dilated to an eight and 100% effaced. She immediately sent me to the delivery room.

When I got there, I was still feeling pretty good. Several weeks before, my husband mentioned he was looking forward to seeing me go through transition just because he wanted to hear me curse!! As we were waiting for the doctor to arrive, my mom told me I was technically in transition and if I wanted to curse, now would be the time. With Ryan smiling in anticipation, I looked at him and said some choice words. To which he replied, “YES!!!” My mom got a good laugh out of it too.

The nurse came back in to ask if I wanted an epidural. I told her I hoped to see how far I could go without drugs. She then gave me a look like “OK, but you’ll be sorry.” She checked me again and said I was now a nine. Before she got to the door, I told Ryan I felt like I needed to push. She turned right back around and checked me again and I had immediately gone to a 10. Well, it was too late for and epidural now! Five painful pushes later our baby boy Andrew was born at 3:30 in the morning weighing an even 6 pounds.

I am not saying any of this to brag because it wasn’t anything I did to make it happen. It was all truly a miracle!! Of course they say, “God won’t give you more than you can handle,” so maybe God knew I couldn’t handle a long labor and delivery. Doctors believed it would probably never happen and said it definitely couldn’t happen without medical intervention. If we had not adopted our son Ian, we may have never had Andrew. It was because of Ian’s faith we had a miracle happen in our lives. After 15 years of marriage, 13 years without birth control, 7 years after adopting our first baby boy, and at the ripe age of 37, I gave birth for the first time to our second baby boy….and we are all living happily ever after!

…and Ian is now believing for a sister!!!

Truly amazing! To celebrate Lori’s miracle, we’re giving away a copy of the book. Leave a comment here telling us the name of your miracle(s) (and remember all babies are miracles) or let us know if you are currently believing for yours (so we can hope and pray with you). Share this post on Facebook or Twitter and leave a comment saying you did for extra entries.

Looking forward to a really fun month of honoring moms and miracles.

Love,

Jessica

Brooklyn’s Birth Story: Becka Edmonson

There were a number of things that influenced my husband’s and my decision in wanting a “natural childbirth,” including that we felt like it was the safest for me and the baby, and that I wanted movement of my legs during and after labor. But most importantly, we had a clear sense that this is what the Lord had called us to. I knew that God had specifically designed our bodies to deliver babies and I was excited to experience this natural process He created. I also felt that the majority of the time in our lives, our tendency is to avoid pain or discomfort at any cost, and this was a time the Lord was asking me to learn to not only endure pain but to embrace it for what He wanted to teach me through the process. We took some great advice from a friend to enroll in Bradley Method classes which was so helpful in preparing us for the journey ahead!

Alright…here’s how it went down. During my last appointment with my doctor, she strongly recommended we not go a day past my due date because of some concerns with the baby not growing adequately. So 5 days before my due date we resigned our ideals of having a completely natural labor, and scheduled the induction. We prayed that night – most importantly for the health and safety for our baby but also that my body would begin labor naturally. Our prayers were answered and that very night I began the early stages of labor! It was hard to sleep – I was so excited! I got up pretty early in the morning to get going on my to-do list…I felt like a ticking time bomb at this point and there was much to do. All through early stages of labor I shopped, ran errands, and cleaned house which was a great way to pass the time!

By the time my husband Brandon got home from work things were getting pretty intense. He started timing the contractions and I spent the next couple of hours laboring at home. The contractions got longer and closer together and although we wanted to labor in the comfort of our home as long as possible, there had also been some previous concerns with Brooklyn’s heart rate dropping and we didn’t want to risk it. So after talking to my doctor, we decided it was time to head to the hospital. By the time we got set up in our room at the hospital the contractions were so painful that I was sure that I must be in transition. My doctor came in and checked my dilation and told me I was dilated to a 4. A 4! I was completely demoralized. At the perfect time, my dear friend and labor coach Gwen arrived and spoke the words of encouragement that I desperately needed. Over the next few hours things progressed, but much slower than I wanted them to. I inched my way to a 6 and a 7. This really hurt! But I was finding relief in getting in and out of the bath, and I had an awesome team of people surrounding me – Brandon, Gwen, my sweet nurses, and my doctor – that brought so much peace and encouragement to me. I focused on what Gwen called “making every contraction count” – trying to relax through contractions instead of fighting them so that each one allowed my body to get closer and closer.

Finally I moved into transition. The pain was more intense than ever and I began crying out to Jesus to help me…I knew I could not do this on my own. I was in a greater amount of pain than I ever knew was possible but God is so faithful – I also began to feel His grace and strength upon me at a greater amount I ever knew possible. At this time things took a turn and I began progressing at a much faster rate. My water broke and I moved quickly to a 10. The room suddenly became full of action as the nurses started setting the room up for delivery. I felt a burst of renewed energy and excitement – I was going to meet this baby soon! And what felt equally as important – this pain was going to be over soon! Pushing was hard – I thought that my body was possibly splitting in half. But it turns out things were actually working just as they were supposed to. After 45 minutes of pushing I remember my doctor saying “I can see her…3 more pushes Becka and she’s here!” I gave it my best 3 pushes and there she was!! My husband was able to catch her and then quickly had to hand her off to a nurse who needed to fix the umbilical cord that had become wrapped around her.

Baby Brooklyn

Soon they placed her on my chest – I can’t describe the feeling of holding my darling baby girl for the first time. The first thing I said to her through tears was “Brooklyn, you were so worth it!!” And she was. So worth every contraction, every ounce of pain…I would have done it a thousand times over just to hold her in my arms for that single moment. She was 5 lbs, 10 oz, 19 inches, and absolutely perfect. I was in love!

I just love hearing stories of first time moms who had a good experience with natural childbirth. It’s important to remember though, natural childbirth is not for everyone and you shouldn’t feel badly if this was not your story or your strong conviction. The important thing is to pray about what God wants for you and your birth story. Kudos to Becka though for pushing (literally) through it. Amazing!

We’ll keep the stories coming and you’ll see a plethora of birth accounts that run the gamut and hopefully encourage you that although every entry into this world is unique due to personal preferences, convictions and circumstance; every birth is an awesome miracle.

Love,

Jessica

Spring is here! I cannot adequately express how excited I am that the weather is warmer and flowers are popping up all over the place. . . that is except my yard. I’ve got a bit of a black thumb. But more on that another time. I can’t think of a better time to share stories of new life then at the onset of this new season. Over the next month or so we’ll be featuring birth stories right here. We’ve asked some of our friends whose babies entered the world in pretty unique ways to share their story with us. We hope that with each retelling, you’ll stand amazed at the miracle of life. We also hope that first time mommies-to-be will get a glimpse into the reality that you can plan and dream all you want, but sometimes you just can’t control how your little one arrives.

Ben’s Birth Story: Rachel Ribble

At about 3:30am, I woke my hubby up to go to the hospital.  I had been lying in bed for awhile, and I finally had no doubt that I was in labor.  I had gone to the hospital a few weeks earlier with false labor, so I wanted to be sure.  My contractions were becoming more intense and closer together.

My husband, Clint, wanted to know if he had time to take a shower.  I supposed so, since I could still walk and talk easily.  And my water had not broken yet.  My labor was induced for my first born, so this all-natural process was completely different for me.  By the time Clint was out of the shower, I was on the floor crawling on my knees.

We quickly made our way into the car, and Clint drove us over to a friend’s house.  Joseff, our 24-month old, was going to stay with close friends. (We had made pre-arrangements with Joseff’s Uncle, but this was the one night in October that he was out-of-town.)   Clint took Joseff inside, and then came back to the car to grab the rest of his things.  As soon as he went back to the house, my water broke.  And I had the sudden urge to push.

Clint rushed back into the car, after noticing the look on my face.  I was trying hard not to push, and trying to breathe deeply and slowly.  He asked me if I wanted to get into the backseat.  I was glued to the front passenger-seat, and we didn’t have time to waste.  I was focused on trying to relax through the surges believing in God’s protection, while Clint sped and prayed his way to Vanderbilt’s ER.

When we got there, Clint parked in the ER’s semi-circle driveway and went to get help.  The only person in the lobby at this hour was a security guard to tell, and then a nurse walked within earshot.  They both looked at Clint with doubt, thinking he’s just another panicky Dad.  He came back to the car with an exasperated look on his face.  He said that someone was coming to check on me, but that they didn’t believe his urgency.  My baby boy’s head was crowning, but the urge to push had stopped.  He ran back inside to make someone come out.  I was just waiting.  Clint came back and a nurse finally came over to our car to check on me.  She felt the head, and with and “Oh!” rushed back into the ER.  A bunch of medical staff surrounded our car, about 12 people in all, and with 2 pushes, I delivered Benjamin into the hands of an ER doctor.  It was the ER doctor’s first baby delivery.  And it was Benjamin’s first adventure into the world in the front seat of our car.

Wow. Although I’d love for my second child to come this quickly, I can’t imagine having him in the front seat of my car. Thank you Rachel for sharing Ben’s story with us. You are one tough woman! Read more from Rachel here.

We hope you enjoy this feature on the site. Don’t let these stories scare you, most of them are pretty out of the ordinary. Do you have a unique birth story to share? Send us an email through the Connect page. We’d love to feature it here.

Happy Spring!

Jessica