To the Ends of the Earth: Jack's Arrival

At first I thought I had peed in my pants. But no, this was much more fluid than just pee! I turned to Tim with huge eyes. He looked back, wondering why my face appeared to be in shock, and I said, "I think my water just broke!" My name had just been called to go into the clinic room and be seen by my physician for the first time since returning from our 10 days of missions training with Samaritan's Purse in the North Carolina area. We were happy to be home without having the baby on the plane flights. We frequently joked about how Jack could arrive today or in 5 weeks...but I didn't actually think that he could arrive today!

I went through a moment of panic. He's too early, just under 37 weeks: will he be okay? I have a lot of fluid around him, and his head didn't feel engaged: is there a cord prolapse? I haven't been having many more contractions than usual; I don't want to be induced! My good friend that was going to act as a support next to Tim and me is out of town this week; he can't be born this week! We haven't prepared anything, and we have all sorts of meetings set up about Nepal; he can't come yet!

We drove straight to the hospital without stopping at home. That didn't matter much anyway since we still hadn't packed our "hospital bag." I was comforted by feeling Jack move a couple of times on the way to the hospital, but I was still anxious to be put on the monitor and hear his heart beat. We checked in at the ER where our knew electronic medical record system, of course, froze. I went upstairs without completing the entire process because I was too anxious to stand there, dripping water onto the floor, feeling occasional contractions.

It was nice to finally arrive to the Labor and Delivery floor with familiar faces, all excited to see me. My nurse was a fantastic woman who I knew to be sensitive but also able to take charge. The board was full, a very busy day, so I was put into a less classic labor room, which worked to my advantage since it was large and we were able to deliver in that room rather than having me wheeled to a separate delivery room just as the baby was crowning.

About an hour after my water broke, the contractions started to become more frequent and much stronger, to the point that it was difficult to breathe. I started to also feel pressure below. Two of my fellow residents were on deck and came in as I had these strong contractions, and they knew I was progressing. My nurse also saw the stark change in my demeanor compared to my arrival just a short time previously. I wasn't sure if I was being too sensitive to the pain since I had only just started labor and imagined that my cervix must not be very open yet. My regular physician was still in clinic, so the one on call checked me.

I could barely roll onto my back for the exam due to the pain. "It feels like your fingers are so high!" I told him, worried that all this pain was just the beginning of many hours of labor and that I wouldn't be able to tolerate such pain for so long without medication as I desired. He looked at me with surprise and said, "No, you're complete!" A wave of relief came over me as I realized that this pain was, thankfully, doing something and doing it well. But a wave of shock and slight panic also rolled over me as I realized that this was really going to happen, and it was going to happen today! Tim joked that maybe our son would be born before Chick-Fil-A closed so we could have that for dinner.

I labored some more until I felt more pressure and the need to push. The stand-in physician was just about to gown up when my regular physician walked through the door. The first time I pushed, I was overwhelmed with the unique sensation of Jack's head coming down, a type of pain that was so different than I had imagined even though I've delivered so many other women. I alternated between panic, wanting to pull away from the intensity and find relief, versus knowing that I needed to push through the pain in order to get to that relief. I was crying out to God for help.

My nurse, physician, and Tim were so wonderfully supportive, allowing me the freedom to make noise, to ask for cold washcloths, to tell them what the pain felt like. I was curled up, smaller than I have been since a baby, I think, laying on my back with knees on my chest, pushing, struggling to take in the breaths to make another push. Yes, I felt the "ring of fire" that everyone mentions during crowning. Finally, his head was out, then his shoulders, then he was on my chest, crying right away! I couldn't really see his face well, but I felt him with my hands, his skin covered in vernix, warming as the nurse rubbed him with the towel.

I looked at Tim in shock, and he looked back at me. Really? Less than 4 hours ago, I was waiting to be seen for a regular check up in the office! While pregnant, I always thought I would cry when my baby was placed on my chest. But it all happened so fast and unexpectedly that my emotions were on standstill other than being grateful to God that my baby was out of me and that he was breathing.

That night I didn't sleep at all. I just held my new baby in my arms and stared at him, the reality sinking in of this wonderful blessing finally being here. I had been waiting to see his little feet that I had felt for so long under my right ribs and to see how much hair he had. (We thought he'd be a very hairy little guy!) The awe overcame me that night and still hasn't left. I can sit and watch him for hours, admiring his perfect lips, distinct chin, beautiful eyes when they open, feeling his fingers wrap around mine. A precious gift from the Lord.

And we did eat Chick-Fil-A for dinner.