Birth is something that is met with a flood of both fear and excitement. Since the fall of Adam and Eve, it has been a moment that women both dread and long for.
Yet, sometimes, God truly blesses this time with the unmistakable beauty of His love.
Our beautiful Zelie is almost now over three months old, but still, reminiscing her birth only reiterates God’s presence in the bringing forth of new life.
It would be remiss of me to say that everything was smooth sailing. Navigating morning sickness with a toddler was certainly trying and discovering Zelie was breech at 38 weeks was scary. Nonetheless, with the proximity of family to help with Max (the toddler) and the success of an ECV to turn Zelie round, I could definitely see God had a plan.
After Zelie was finally in the right position, I started to feel that we would be meeting her rather soon. My braxton-hicks contractions began to increase and worsen. Each night I would go to bed, expectant to be waking Chris soon to go to the hospital but alas, after hours of pacing the hallway, they would stop again and I would crawl into bed about 3am.
This happened for 2 weeks consistently. By this time (at my 40 week appointment) the doctor was concerned that Zelie had flipped back around and was in breech position again. I was rushed for an urgent ultrasound to find out that all was well.
At this stage, however, I was beyond exhausted. I had barely slept in the last two weeks, thinking we would be having a baby any moment but she never came. I had almost hoped that she was breech so I could just have a c-section and be done with the sleepless nights.
In hindsight, God had something better in mind. In my early pregnancy, I had prayed earnestly, for an easier delivery. After my experience of pre-eclampsia with my firstborn, the possibility of worsening complications with more children became a concern. The pain and exhaustion of childbirth didn’t bother me, I just wanted to make sure that my body was able and strong to bring children healthily into the world.
The day following this ultrasound, however, I received a phone call from the hospital saying that they were concerned with how big the baby was and that they would like her to be born soon. Normally I would resist intervention for a non-emergent reason, however, I was so exhausted and emotional after weeks of pre-term labour that I agreed excitedly to an induction the following day.
However, when I arrived at the hospital they were so busy that they unable to proceed with the induction and instead conducted a stretch and sweep and rescheduled for three days later.
When I returned for my waters to be broken, they discovered that I was not dilated at all so they would be unable to do that procedure and instead for me to return that evening for the another form of inductions (cervidil). Needless to say I was beyond frustrated, going in and out of the hospital, being admitted and discharged each time. That evening, when I returned, again, I was truly beyond belief when, after being examined, I was now too dilated for the cervidil and that the best option would be to have my waters broken but they would not do that until the morning as they didn’t want to deliver me during the night.
To say that I was furious is an understatement! God must truly know that I need to work on the virtue of patience.
After an extremely sleepless night, I rose at 4.30 and walked for almost two hours, trying to ensure that baby would be nice and low and that I could actually go ahead with the induction. Afterwards I enjoyed a slow cup of coffee with my husband and we headed to the hospital finally, for the last time!
It was a surreal moment, entering the hospital again, wondering if I would leave this time with my baby whom we had waited so very impatiently for.
Thankfully, this morning I was already 3cm dilated and they have no trouble breaking my waters. I had hoped that contractions would pick up after this, but alack, they didn’t. At 9am, as they hooked me up to the pitocin drip, I wondered whether this birth would be as tumultuous as my last. I prayed earnestly for an easier delivery, not necessarily because I was concerned for myself, but because I truly hoped for more children and a better delivery could help that become a reality.
Imminently, my contractions became stronger and steadier. I was still very capable of walking around and talking throughout until about midday. At this stage, I began to draw more inward. I put my earphones in and actually watched “The Crown” as a distraction from the increasing tightenings. I enjoyed listening to Chris chatting with the nurses but I was happy not to partake. When the nurses noticed this change in myself, they checked my dilation which was approximately 4cm; we all thought there was a while still to go.
By 1.40 I found myself really breathing through each contraction, now I could not speak throughout, even if I had wanted. I decided I would have a shower in order to keep relaxed and help progress dilation.
The relief of kneeling in the shower, leaning against the railing with warm water gently massaging my back, is what I imagine prayers for the dead must feel like for the souls in purgatory.
At about 2pm, I left the shower in order for the nurses to check the babies heartbeat. As I was leaning over a birthing ball, I felt my body start to take control and push downwards without even my consciousness of doing so. I knew, it was time to start pushing!
Incrementally, I’ll climbed onto the bed, and leaned over on all fours. The nurses couldn’t believe I was that far along just yet but after a quick examination they were convinced.
There’s something powerful about this stage of labour. There has been so much pain already but finally you can physically DO something to meet this baby! As each contraction came on, I gripped one hand around my husband’s and the other around a pillow and squeezed until my knuckles were whiter than snow, each time feeling my baby get closer and closer to earth-side.
I remember briefly glancing at the clock at 2.20 as I gripped for my biggest push yet and as I watched the hands ticking, my baby’s head was born. With just a few strong breaths Zelie was delivered into my arms and embraced firmly on my chest.
There is a sublimity in that moment, that goes beyond reason and rests only in the femininity of a mother. Logic does not have the terminology to explain unconditional love for a babe you have only just met.
My eyes welled with delight as I gazed at Chris, murmuring “It’s a girl, it’s Zelie!”
Much after this was a blur. I know the midwives were busily cleaning things up all around me but in that moment with our precious baby laying on my chest, my thoughts were with the Blessed Virgin Mary holding the Christ Child to her with St Joseph standing beside her.
Throughout life, God blesses us, the Church militant, with little glimpses of heaven; like a flag of where we we should be aiming. This child, the birth of this babe is such a gift that we were given to guide also to reach heaven.
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