My Mom has always told me that I’ve never done things “the way everyone else does”. I tend to march to the beat of my own drum, however, when it came to childbirth I was perfectly fine with the experience being just like everyone else. I wanted to go into labor, have contractions for hours and hours, have a baby emerge from my nether regions, and then recover. Lynn and I had planned it, the doctor was on board with our plan and that was just the way it would be! Yes, that is how this is going to go. HA!
Prior to the main event I was doing my research and asked my sister to tell me her birth stories of when her boys were born. I wanted to have some examples of what I might be able to expect. The best advice I got was from my sister in law, “don’t expect anything, be flexible, and just go with it.” I remember telling my sister that I wasn’t afraid of the pain or the labor. My biggest fear in the world was a Cesarean Section. I just didn’t want that. The idea of it freaked me out and why anyone would actually want one was beyond me.
I went in for my 36 week appointment and everything looked great. Baby was positioned perfectly but she still needed to keep cooking for a while longer. A few days later I came down with a nasty fever. I have to say that being sick while pregnant is miserable. I only had a fever but man I was shocked I survived. I spent most of that week on the couch.
My 37 week appointment came. Fever had finally broken a few days earlier and I was back to just feeling huge and pregnant. My super awesome doctor came in and did his measurements, poked around my belly and decided that all was normal. Then he got out his handy tool and checked for the heartbeat. Every other appointment the doctor rarely had to search to find it but this time it couldn’t be found. I saw my doctors face change from happy and relaxed to concern and confusion. He moved the wand all over my belly and finally after what seemed like an eternity found her heart beat up in my ribcage. She had flipped and was now breach. That wasn’t all; the fluid levels in my uterus had dramatically dropped. Time started to move really slow and yet my mind was moving really fast. The doctor left the room to see if he could get us in for an ultrasound immediately. My husband started pacing and I tried to remain calm. I prayed, “Jesus, just so we’re clear, I’m really okay if you don’t use childbirth as one of those teaching experiences to grow my character. I would rather you wouldn’t.” But that’s not how Jesus works and I knew that I would have to find a way to trust him.
The doctor came back in and informed us that the ultrasound department was busy so he took us to a back room and did an ultrasound on what I assume is one of the “old” machines. His suspicions were confirmed, I had 2 cm of fluid. At this point in my pregnancy I should have 15 cm of fluid. After hearing that I stopped listening to what the doctor was saying. He continued to talk “doctor talk” to my husband for several minutes while I laid there in an almost passed out state. After a few minutes, I broke my zone and asked the doctor point blank “do I need to have a C-section?” Which followed by my husband asking, “Doc, are we going to be parents today?” With a slightly disappointed look on his face he said “Yes, we need to get you in today or there could be further complications. I’m sorry these things just happen. I know it’s not what we talked about.”
At the time I didn’t ask what he meant by “further complications” the thought of it made me very uneasy. The doctor left to get us scheduled at the hospital while Lynn and I stayed in the little room, prayed, and shed a few tears. We reassured each other that she was okay and we were going to be parents today! I tried very hard to focus on the excitement of the situation, but I was terrified.
The doctor came back and we were scheduled to become parents early that evening. As we were walking out of the doctor’s office I looked at Lynn and said, “I better call my Mom.
I called my mom and got her voicemail, called dad, sister, brothers, and in laws. Called Mom again and it went to voicemail. Called my Grandmas, sent a text message to my friends, and then called Mom to once again get her voicemail. There’s just something about having a baby that makes you want to talk to your mom and all I got was her voicemail. COME ON! She did finally call me back after my sister in law chased her down.
After the doctor’s office we went back to work to let our employers know what was happening. My husband really needed to keep himself busy as the surgery wasn’t scheduled for a few hours. I went home to “get ready”, whatever that means. I think this mainly consisted of me wandering around my house not really doing anything. I needed a few minutes to myself to think and pray. The tears flowed and flowed. I sat in her room and touched her things. I’m not sure there’s anything more terrifying than being a parent and the reality of that fact was hitting me hard in that instant.
I remember saying her name over and over while I cried and rubbed her little head up in my ribcage. And then I heard his whisper, “Joanna why do you want to name her Moriah?” My answer, “Because Moriah is the place that you chose to be your holy place.” “That’s right. I chose her. She is mine. I’ve got this.” “Okay Lord, with you in charge, I can do this.”
A few hours later we were in the hospital and I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life. I can’t imagine what my face looked like at that moment when they handed me the hospital gown and showed me to my room. I was so terrified they couldn’t get my IV in my arm. I was calm on the outside but on the inside the waves were rocking and the storm was moving in. My doctor came in and there was just something about having MY doctor there that calmed my nerves. I asked him if I would be able to watch the C-section and he said “SURE!” They walked me into the operating room and the less than glamorous process began. My doctor set up a mirror and I was able to watch my daughters little body emerge bum first out of my belly. It was still the most magical moment of my life even if it wasn’t at all what I had planned.
Moriah means “The Lord is my Teacher” and I have a feeling the Lord is going to use this little girl to teach her Mama. Her birth was only the first of many lessons he will be teaching me. I learned that parenting is all about trusting the Lord. I can’t control anything. I can’t control how she was born and I won’t be able to control her future. The power of a praying Mama is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. And I have to trust that He will always know what is best for my sweet little princess.