Birth Story #3: Kindness, Peace & Provision
Baby #3 has arrived and, since it’s been helpful in the past for me to write out my stories, I want to do so again.
The Pregnancy
When we found out we were pregnant with #3, I had a pretty good idea of which provider I would choose. We’ll just call him Dr. A. Since I knew I needed to have a repeat cesarean this time around (by the recommendation of not just the doctor who delivered baby #2, but also my midwives), I figured it best to go with an OB. Dr. A is known in our area as being one who does gentle c-sections and he’s also supposed to be a very good surgeon.
After some headaches with the hospital just getting into their system, I finally was able to meet with Dr. A.
Around 20 weeks, we had an ultrasound. I really wanted to be surprised about the baby’s sex this time. Baby #1 was a surprise, but when she was born, no one said “it’s a girl!” I had to ask repeatedly and that was one of the many disappointing aspects of that traumatic birth experience. I was hoping to redeem that this time around. At the ultrasound, we got to see our sweet little one moving around and we were pleased to find that baby seemed healthy and strong.
After the ultrasound we shared some of the photos. To my disappointment, someone who looked at one of the ultrasound pictures commented that baby sure looked like a boy! I hadn’t even been paying attention to that part of the photo and was sad because that person did seem to be right… meaning the baby’s sex was probably no longer a surprise.
But, like God often does, He took that disappointing event and used it for good! That experience helped me realize that, up until that point in my pregnancy, I was kind of just coasting along, letting things happen without really actively deciding things. Had I been proactive in understanding why being surprised was important to me, I may have made a plan that would have prevented the problem altogether.
I came to realize that, moving forward, is need to be more proactive if I wanted things to go a certain way.
I started to wonder if there really was no chance I could try again for a VBAC. I figured probably not. But, at the same time, I wanted to understand why. The answer I’d been given until that point was basically simply “well, you had a uterine dehiscence last time.” I wondered if there was anyone else who might explain more about the dehiscence (my research showed that there’s not necessarily reason to avoid VBACs altogether after a uterine dehiscence). I wanted to know details! But neither Dr. A nor anyone else was providing me with the details I needed. In short, I started to wonder about getting a second opinion.
I contacted my doula from birth #2. She told me about a birth she’d recently attended. It was a TOLA2C. And the OB? A VBA2C-friendly Milwaukee doctor named Dr. W.
I also started to think about my birth plan and the things that I wanted in this birth. And I started addressing those things with Dr. A. One thing that was important to me was to wait until baby was ready to have the c-section, rather than just scheduling it for 39 weeks regardless. This was especially a concern because Dr. A calculated my due date as May 17, when it was in fact May 20. If we scheduled a cesarean for 39 weeks, it would have landed on what was actually 38.5 weeks. When I addressed this concern with Dr. A, he insisted that we leave my due date recorded as May 17. When I asked if we could wait until labor began to do the c-section, he looked at me like I had four heads, and, exasperated, finally said “ok, sure, fine, if that’s what you want I can do that.” The moment I got that condescending answer was the moment I knew I didn’t trust Dr. A to be the one there to help deliver this baby.
So, at 26 weeks, I showed up at Dr. W’s office (located an hour from home) with all my post-op records in hand. I knew I liked Dr. W from the moment I met him. He looked thoroughly through my records. He thoughtfully considered each aspect of what he read. Then he pulled out a diagram of a uterus and explained to me all the factors that influenced his recommendation. Despite being slow to jump to medical interventions, and even with a cesarean rate under 15%, he, for reasons beyond just the dehiscence, believed a c-section to be the best course of action. (He said if the dehiscence had been the only factor, he would have encouraged a VBAC. In my case, however, there were many other issues to consider.)
Meeting with Dr. W was a breath of fresh air. Even though he confirmed that, yes, I’d need a c-section, I was encouraged by his approach in many ways:
He is the first doctor who has ever listened to the story of my first birth with compassion in his eyes.
He is the first doctor who has ever acknowledged that “You’re right. They didn’t give you a fair chance at a vaginal birth and I’m so sorry that happened.”
He is the first doctor who was willing to sit and talk as long as I needed to explain in-depth the answers to my questions and actual evidence-based recommendations for my particular situation.
He wasn’t bothered in the slightest when I said I wanted to wait until early labor started to head to the hospital for my cesarean (rather than scheduling ahead).
He attends all of his patients’ births - whether he’s “on call” or not.
As the weeks progressed, I continued to be sure of my choice to switch to Dr. W. Still, I had a hard time embracing the idea of a repeat cesarean. I sent the following email to some friends that articulates well where I was at:
Most of you know at least some of my birth story history. Anyway, I have a prayer request regarding this coming birth for baby #3. As most of you know, I will 99% likely be having another cesarean. This will be either whenever contractions become regular or May 25, whichever comes first.
I’m not doubting that this is the right plan at this point. I feel comfortable (rationally) with this being the best way to go given the situation, and it’s what has been recommended by multiple providers (both OBs and midwives) who I trust.However, I’m still just not thrilled about the idea of being cut open again. I balk at the concept of my child’s birth being more in the “major medical procedure” category than the “natural occurrence” category. So my main prayer request in this regard is simply that God would work in the next however many days before baby arrives to bring me from my current place of resigned acceptance to a place of deeply-felt peace with doing things this way (essentially closing the door to ever experiencing a natural birth).
The Delivery
Soon enough, the day arrived! God was so kind - He allowed our little one to arrive on one of the days I was hoping for. May 15 and May 24-26 were the only dates that wouldn’t involve some sort of conflict. So I was grateful that God granted my request.
Many friends prayed for me. The following is a prayer I received via text that morning at the hospital:
Lord, give Christi peace today. Help her rest in the process of bringing this baby safely into the world. If possible, give her the desire of her heart, and if that is not safe, then help her heart desire what You’ve allowed.
Give the doctor and his team all the wisdom they need to keep both Christi and the baby healthy.
Help Christi and Eric be a light for You in the hospital, glorifying Your name while knowing how and when to speak up for what Christi and the baby need.
Thank you for the blessing of this baby. You have formed “him” lovingly for the last nine months, and we can’t wait to see Your beautiful handiwork.
In the name of Jesus who died so we could have life, Amen
I arrived at the hospital around 7:30am. Because I ate breakfast (I’m a firm believer in not giving birth on an empty stomach!), I had to wait in the triage room all day playing games on my phone against Eric - haha! I did spend some time journaling and I wrote a note to our baby too.
I texted quite a bit with a dear friend who is a doula - she was a long-distance support to me! I also was living on the edge: I drank water throughout the day despite being told not to eat or drink. I’m such a rebel!
Another friend sent this text with a verse that stuck with me while I waited:
Praying for your heart to have only peace and joy as you trust in your loving Creator who has provided this particular means of bringing your babies safely into your arms! ❤️
Psalm 34:8
Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!
In the late afternoon, after getting postponed twice, it was finally time to meet the baby!
Dr. W and the anesthesiologist met with me before the surgery to go over my birth plan again and ensure they were accommodating all my requests.
When I walked into the room they had my music playing. While they prepped me we talked about the music. One nurse, Janean, heard the Josh Garrels song I had on my playlist and it had been her wedding dance song. That was special for me because it’s kind of an obscure song to begin with, and also probably meant the nurse is a Christian. It’s interesting looking back; the music ended up being a more significant part of the story than I’d expected.
Not having labored first, I was alert and very present. I stayed just as alert even after my spinal block, and every step the doctors took in the surgery prep was explained thoroughly. They told me what to expect. I asked lots of questions: “what’s that slimy stuff you’re putting on me?”
Then Eric came in and sat by my side. He read Bible verses and talked with me. Gosh, I feel like I can do anything when that man is by my side.
While they were doing the surgery, they were asking more questions about the music. One nurse (the one taking the pictures) commented she liked that I included Pride & Prejudice soundtrack. Dr. W asked who was playing when Secret Garden came on.
At 5:02pm, I felt a deep tugging sensation, heard baby cries and Eric’s declaration: “It’s a boy!” They immediately placed Josiah on my chest while “Planting Trees” by Andrew Peterson played in the background.
While Josiah was on my chest I cried happy tears and just kept telling Eric how happy I was. This is how all (non-emergency) c-sections should be!
After about 10 minutes they took Josiah to weigh him and take care of some things and then Eric got to hold him - our precious boy.
Sewing me up took longer than I thought. I started to get bored/impatient and wanted to just get to my room with my baby! But they finished the job well and thoroughly (even repairing my diastasis recti), so I’m grateful for that.
God really answered our prayers for peace. Of course I’d love to have had a vaginal birth but in a way this was merciful because I was able to have exactly what I wanted/expected and there’s actually mercy too just in the fact that I already know what c-section recovery is like so afterwards I didn’t have to deal with unfamiliar territory.
In the end, though, the peace mainly took the form of simple contentment… almost a good sort of complacency. The peace we all prayed for didn’t come in the form of some sort of deeply-felt spiritual experience. It was more of a quiet, ordinary acknowledgement. When I think about Josiah’s birth, the method of delivery surprisingly matters very little to me. I’m so grateful that God gave me peace that passes all understanding. By giving me a birth team that accommodated my (not unreasonable) wishes, and by working on my heart response, God allowed this birth story to be one of true peace.
This was posted in my Bible reading challenge group this week and it perfectly describes the peace I'm talking about.
The Days Afterward
In the days that followed, I distinctly felt God’s arms holding me - in the form of people He placed around me.
When the pain was unbearable, God held me up through this prayer and a verse from friends:
Dear God, you gave your body so that we could be your children. You know exactly the pain Christi is going through. Please give her relief and more of yourself. Draw especially close to her and her family today. Amen.
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romans 8:18
When a visit from family was cut short because 20 minutes was all I could handle, God ensured that, through His people, I was met with grace.
When I needed rest, God provided Emily, our gentle and caring night nurse.
When my older kids needed care for five days straight, God’s faithful care took the form of four loving parents who willingly put aside their plans to watch our children (and prune the bushes, and weed the garden, and do the laundry, and clean the house).
When sweet Josiah needed to get more milk faster, God gave us Kathy, a sister in Christ (as well as lactation consultant) whose joy it is to help moms and babies.
When my girl graduated preschool when I was only 6 days postpartum, God’s love took the form of dear family coming alongside us to make the day so very special for her when I didn’t have the capacity for decorations and cupcakes.
When we were weary, spending our days running on fumes, God fed our physical bodies with food provided by our village: His Church. And He fed our souls with His Word: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”
There’s an Andrew Peterson song that articulates this so beautifully. This is what the Church is. Let us not grow weary.
They flew us down to Oklahoma City | Yeah, but I could hardly stand there on the stage | So sick I couldn't speak | And the fever wouldn't break | But when I stepped up to the microphone I heard it | It was the voices of the brothers at my side | They were singing out my song | When the song in me had died | Oh, shine your light on me | And the servants of the secret fire | Were gathered there | The embers of the ages | Like a living prayer | And all at once I saw the shadows flee | Shine your light on me, on me | Be a light unto my path | And a lamp unto my feet