Georgia's birth was a beautiful thing. Of course. I imagine it would be quite hard to find a mother who wouldn't say that about their child's birth. Scary? Sure. Painful? Uh-huh. But beautiful.
We saw a midwife through my whole pregnancy. A great one. We had planned on giving birth at the midwife's birthing center. It was beautiful and simple – resembling a condo of sorts . I loved it. I loved the giant tub. I loved the queen size bed. I loved that it didn't feel like a hospital. I loved it all. I had a beautiful picture of how it would go – me, Stuart, and our midwife would be gently working together in a smooth motion to get through each contraction. I would be breathing gently and slowly rise to the challenge of giving birth naturally. I would be strong and radiant. I would still look fabulous. Not fat, sweaty, or gross at all. My hair would be perfect. My toes would be painted and my legs would be shaved. It would be relaxed and quiet – like the still of the morning. Then, I would conquer the world, and deliver our beautiful child. It would be fabulous. I don't see what was so wrong in thinking it could all go like this? I mean really…
Alas, as we all learn quickly in life, the Lord has his own plans for our journey. At 36 weeks we found out that Georgia was breach. 100% upside down. Well, actually right side up, which was the problem. Midwives don't deliver breach babies, as it's too great of a risk for them to take. There would be no cool bathtub. No queen size bed. I cried. I know, it is such a girl way to handle things, but I couldn't help it. I had enough hormones for every female within a five mile radius. My husband can attest to this, should you dare to bring it up with him.
But, behold! I had a great plan! Lots of them actually. I was going to flip this wee one. She had to flip because I wanted to use the cool bathtub, dangit! Would you believe that I tried to do a headstand when I was nine months pregnant? (By the way, totally unsuccessful – I swear, I almost broke my neck). I also did about five hundred back flips in my Aunt's pool. I saw a chiropractor who loosed up all kinds of wonderful muscles around my uterus. I spent many nights with my tooshie elevated in the air while Stuart read to me. I saw an acupuncturist who pricked needles into my feet and had me burn moxi next to my pinkie-toe every night for weeks (Stuart actually had to do this, since I got out of breath when I reached for my toes). I had a version where the doctor tried to flip her with his hands (her heart rate dropped, I cried, end of story). I sat with a frozen bag of shredded zucchini on the top of my belly at work. I PUT R.C. SPROUL ON MY IPOD AND SHOVED EARPHONES DOWN MY PANTS. I was desperate.
But you'll never guess what happened.
Go on, guess.
No don't, you'll never guess.
I'll tell you.
God's plan prevailed.
His perfect plan was for Georgia to remain just as she was. Girlfriend never even came close to flippin'. Never even tried. She just hung out in that danged ‘ol uterus the way she wanted to.
Once we realized that she was not budging, we saw an OB/GYN, who agreed to do our c-section. No one wanted to deliver my baby normally (trust me, I asked!) They also didn't want me to go into labor naturally. If Georgia didn't come out on her own by 39 weeks, they were going to take her out anyway. I remember a lot of prayer during this time – to trust in the Lord's plan for our birth. No matter what that meant.
And then, a Christmas, er, September, miracle!
4:00 A.M.: Shaye awakens to a strange sensation in her uterus. Pressure. Painful pressure. Probably just that lentil soup I ate last night. Goes back to sleep.
4:10 A.M.: Yikes. Shaye hasn't ever felt that before. Interesting. Goes back to sleep.
4:20 A.M.: More pain. Eh (*shrug*), still not worth getting up for. Goes back to sleep.
4:30 A.M.: Maybe she should start timing these? They hurt. Goes back to sleep.
4:40 A.M.: Wake up Stuart.
Stuart, something is my belly and it is angry and it wants to come out!
Well, what does it feel like?
Oh. (Stuart proceeds to fall asleep)
5:00 A.M.: Shaye gets up to text her sister. “Umm…what does a contraction feel like?”
5:01 A.M.: Her sister replies, “Ummm…trust me, you will know.”
5:45 A.M.: Shaye knows.
6:00 A.M.: Shaye gets into bathtub to try and see if contractions are going to stop. Stuart asks if she wants him to read her Lord of The Rings. Shaye replies, “No, you crazy person! Are you crazy?!”
This is a photo of me putting on makeup, while having a contraction. Before I go have a c-section. Stupid, I know.
Stuart was concentrating on the fetal monitor. He would say, “Oh, here comes one!” and I was would say “Oh really? Thank you for telling me! I had no idea?!” as I was curling my toes and having problems speaking.
This is my game face. Wait…wait a minute…am I wearing lipstick? The vanity.
At this point there was a lot of pain, needles, fear, joy, and tears.
Then we were holding our wee one. They just cut right in there and pulled her out.
Please ignore my chin(s). It is a symptom of labor.
God's plan is so perfect. In that beautiful moment, I wasn't thinking about the cool bathtub I missed out on. Or the queen size bed.
I wasn't thinking about what recovery would be like. Or the pain associated with it. Or (yuck!) having a catheter.
I wasn't thinking about not being able to have the birth I wanted, where my body could do just what God had designed it to do.
I was thinking about the absolute, incomprehensible blessing of God's grace. I still haven't gotten over this miracle.
And I would have done it again a thousand times over.
But four or five would be okay too.